


Best Medicine

by xLilarosa



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Family Feels, Friendship, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical Procedures, Medical Trauma, Search and Rescue, Slow Burn, Whump, hurt!Aidan, hurt!Dean, hurt!Richard, hurt!adam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-04-02 04:39:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4046305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xLilarosa/pseuds/xLilarosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "The Katipo"</p><p>When the boys take a trip into the mountains to decompress after Dean’s injury, the unthinkable happens and they quickly learn that having each other just may make all the difference.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Another round of whump, my friends!
> 
> This story directly follows “The Katipo”, and will have a boatload of references to it. If you haven’t read it, you can still probably follow along.
> 
> I don’t practice medicine, I just research a lot and have a little bit of experience from working as a CNA in the ICU a few years back. I try to make this as medically accurate as possible, but there’s bound to be mistakes. I hope I’m forgiven by those who know more than me.

For the past week, everything had been too quiet. Aidan could swear it would be impossible for Dean to bury any further into himself, and the silence was starting to wear on him.

It had started with the near-daily doctor’s appointments and checkups the first week they’d been home from the hospital. Dean wasn’t used to the constant attention, to having to depend on another person so wholly. Whether it was to keep track of the multiple medications he took every few hours, or to rely on assistance to just get around the house. Dean was a person who was constantly in motion, someone who spent the majority of his day outside, exploring, socializing, and now he’d been practically bed ridden.

It hadn’t been so bad at first, but during the second week Dean had developed new pain in his leg and a low-grade fever. The doctors had found a small abscess in the wound, and the JP drain that he’d been looking forward to being removed, was forced to stay in a few days longer. On top of that, progress during his physical therapy sessions was slow to null, and they were insisting the use of a cane during any trips longer than the length of his house. There were threats of permanent muscle damage if he didn’t keep up the exhausting rehabilitation, but without progress, it was hard for the blond to keep a positive attitude.

Dean just couldn’t seem to catch a break, and today was the straw the broke the camel’s back, because he was currently collapsed in a heap on the bathtub floor, having just slipped on the tile during his shower, and was lacking the wherewithal to move.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said brokenly. Small hands furiously wiped away the tears slipping down his cheeks.

Aidan, having heard his boyfriend’s fall, had rushed into the room and pulled back the curtain, terrified of what he’d find. His throat tightened at what he saw, and he knelt down to the blond’s level.

“None of that. You can,” Aidan said as he shut off the water. “You’ve already come so far. The doctors are all impressed with your recovery.”

Dean choked out a laugh but didn’t respond as Aidan draped a towel over his shoulders. He looked on worriedly, because although his boyfriend was still distraught, he hadn’t actually moved.

“Did you pull your drain at all?” He asked hesitantly. The device was a touchy subject because Dean was repulsed by the way it looked. The only time he’d let Aidan near it or look was when he was too tired to empty it himself, and even then he’d go red in the cheeks.

Gently, Aidan shifted Dean’s calf to the side so he could see the wound, still red and incredibly painful looking. But the stitches that held in the drain in place were intact, and not pulled, so Aidan sighed in relief. “Looks good.”

Dean pulled his leg away and made a little sound. Finally, he looked up at him, green eyes round and pleading and rimmed with tears. “I need to get away, Aid. I’m going crazy here.”

Dean had mentioned it before a few days ago but Aidan had quickly shut him down. He’d still had a low-grade fever, and the risk of the infection worsening was too great. But the defeated look in the blond’s eyes right now undermined any of the potential risks, and Aidan acquiesced.

“Okay. But let’s get you out of this tub and dry off before we make any plans.”

The smile that broke out on the blond’s face helped to soothe some of the unease Aidan felt in his stomach, and he allowed himself to smile back.

____________________

 

On Friday, only two days later, they had packed Richard's truck with camping gear and food for the weekend, and along with Adam, squeezed into the cab and made their way deep into the West Coast of the South Island. Once they found a secluded place to make camp, they unpacked their tents, and began the short hike to the summit of the small mountain. Dean was so excited to get out of the house, that he was barely limping along the trail in his excitement, only partially depending on his cane. Thankfully, the winding trail quickly gave way to a rocky opening which overlooked much of forest and wetlands. Finally in his element, Dean dropped his cane to the side and began taking pictures of the beautiful landscape and his friends. Not even the dull pain in his muscles could begin to hamper the freedom he was finally feeling that he’d been craving for weeks.

Only when Aidan began to notice the emerging limp and wince in Dean’s face did he subtly mention to his friend’s that they should begin their hike back. They all quickly understood his suggestion, and they collectively trekked back to their campsite.

“Feeling okay?” Aidan asked as Dean collapsed into the fold-out chair by the campfire. Adam had just got the fire going, and the warmth emanating from it felt soothing in the cool evening air.

“Yeah,” Dean replied honestly. Though his leg was cramping from all the activity, his mind was finally at ease being around his friends and not confined indoors. “Perfect. Thanks for this, Aid.”

Aidan smiled and pulled over a spare chair, which he encouraged Dean to rest his bad leg on. The doctors were still advising him to keep it elevated as much as possible to reduce the inflammation, and Aidan wasn’t going to ignore their orders just because they were out camping. Once Dean had his leg up, he placed an instant ice pack against the wound, only feeling better when the blond sighed in content.

“Alright boys, what are you in the mood for, for supper?” Richard asked as he opened the full cooler and passed beers to Aidan and Adam. “Burgers or chicken?”

“Chicken!” Adam said.

“Chicken sounds good," Aidan agreed. "Dean? What are you in the mood for?”

“Not very hungry,” he replied. Shifting deeper into the chair, Dean closed his eyes, just enjoying the warmth of the fire. “You guys pick.”

Aidan quickly eyed the others who each held their own levels of concern, and he left to go inside their tent. “I’ll be right back. Chicken sounds good, Rich.”

Inside, the Irishman pulled Dean’s orange pill bottles from his bag and gathered each medication that was due into the palm of his hand. Of the many pills – pain medication, a muscle relaxer, steroids, and antibiotics – each held their own unpleasant side effect, including malaise and poor appetite. Knowing that Dean wasn’t hungry and would probably refuse to eat, he poured a bottle of vanilla Ensure into an opaque water bottle (for Dean's dignity), and then returned to his boyfriend’s side. Dean was already dozing, but he woke enough to take his meds, and sip off some of his drink.

With Dean now comfortable and settled, Aidan allowed himself to collapse into a chair next to him by the fire. He was drained, physically from the hike and mentally from cumulation of little sleep and stress for many weeks straight. He closed his eyes.

“You okay, Aid?” Adam’s voice came from across the fire.

Aidan cleared his throat and blinked tiredly. “Yeah. Just tired.”

“Drink,” Richard pushed his beer into his hands, and Aidan quickly downed a large drink of it. “You need some time to relax. Now’s the perfect time to.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“How’s he actually doing?” Richard asked as he put the chicken wrapped in tinfoil over the grill of the fire. “Today's been the first day I've seen him actually smile.”

Aidan stole a quick glance at the blond, who was clearly sleeping and oblivious to their conversation. Only then did he allow himself to be honest with the others, who looked on at the two with concern. “Not the best, honestly. He’s still not healed all the way, and he’s not making much progress in physical therapy. I think being cooped up in the house all the time has just made it worse for him.”

“No wonder he was so adamant to get out here,” Adam said.

“He’s an active person to begin with, I’m surprised this didn’t happen sooner,” Richard said.

“Well, he mentioned he wanted to leave earlier this week,” Aidan said. He glanced again over to Dean just to make sure he was truly sleeping. “But he’s been so sick, still, with the abscess and the fever. I was worried he’d relapse,” he swallowed hard, and took another sip of his beer, just to feel the coolness soothe the lump in his throat. “I don’t think I could take that again.”

Richard murmured in agreement as he flipped over the chicken. “I think you made the right decision bringing him out here, though. He seems to be over the worst of it now. I bet this will lift his spirits.”

“This is the happiest I’ve seen him weeks,” Aidan said. “I know this is what’s best for him, I guess I just need to convince myself that nothing bad will happen.”

“Well that begins by finishing off your beer,” Adam smiled at him, holding his own bottle up in cheers. “Peter gave us the whole weekend off, which never happens, so let’s make the best of it, yeah?”

An hour passed, where the mood lightened considerably and they finished their beers and dinner. Only when the moon was high in the sky and the stars shining bright did Aidan finally feel at ease.

“Hey,” Richard caught his attention suddenly, and he looked pointedly at Dean. Aidan shifted his gaze over to his boyfriend, where the blond was beginning to tilt to the side and was just about to spill his bottle of Ensure.

With reflexes that startled him even in his tired state, he caught the bottle just in time, which woke Dean. Green eyes sleepily peered up at him.

“Want to go to bed?” Aidan asked him, already standing up, ready to help him stand and go into their tent.

Dean nodded without any form of protest. Accepting his boyfriend’s help, they slowly entered the tent, and Aidan helped him lay down comfortably under the blankets. Knowing that the blond was too tired to take care of his drain, Aidan efficiently and clinically emptied it, mentally taking note of how much he drained into the small container, and then collapsed the grenade-like drain, plugging it to maintain its constant suction.

He walked a few feet into the woods and dumped the serosanguinous fluid into the brush. Pausing a moment, Aidan allowed himself to collect his thoughts and breathe. He knew how he must look – he could easily feel it through the tiredness in his muscles and puffiness surrounding his eyes. It was a direct reflection of the grief he’d felt since Dean’s accident, and he didn’t expect it to go away any time soon; not until Dean was completely healed.

Sighing heavily, Aidan walked back over to his boyfriend, who was already in a light doze against the pillows. He covered him, tucked in the heavy covers, and then pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

The faintest smile pulled against Dean’s lips, and it was still there when Aidan zipped up the tent.

“I’ll be in soon. Sweet dreams, Deano.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely comments. They're like carrots for my muse bunny :o)
> 
> For those who have tumblr, I'm newer to it, but you can find me there (lilarosa712).
> 
>  
> 
> And so finally the whump begins......

Aidan woke to the peaceful sounds of wildlife and quiet chatter. He was slow to break the sleepy cobwebs from his mind, so in the meantime he snuggled in closer to the warm body next to him. 

He breathed in deeply, perfectly content to stay just as he was lying. Even through the thin skin of the tent, he could feel how the morning was already beautiful, sun warming up the inside to a temperature in the high seventies.

Blinking drowsily, he looked over to Dean, who was still in a deep sleep. His arms and legs were strewed nearly across the entire bed, entangled in Aidan’s, and his hair was wild and curly. The sight would have been simply adorable, if Dean’s uncovered skin hadn’t looked so sickly, so skinny from the weight he’d lost. He still had a sunken look from the illness that just wouldn’t seem to let go. There was a brief flash of him, near-death in the ICU bed, exposed and unable to breathe for himself; attached to leads, cardiac monitors, invasive lines and drips – all too many to count…

Aidan squeezed his eyes shut and forced the thought away. _Distraction_ , he needed a distraction.

Gently, he leaned down to kiss the smaller man at the soft skin between his jaw and neckline. Just as he wanted, Dean came to life, murmuring softly. He pried his eyes open and blearily tried to focus on Aidan.

The Irishman smiled. “Mornin’, love.”

“Morning,” Dean croaked. “Time’z’it?”

“Early. I think the other’s just woke up, too.”

Dean hummed and then turned onto his side, facing him. He reached out and placed his hand on Aidan’s side, rubbing his thumb in little circles on his hipbone.

“How are you feeling today?” Aidan asked.

Dean made a noncommittal shrug, and couldn’t help but shiver in the fresh air. Aidan frowned and put the back of his hand to Dean’s forehead.

“No fever,” he said. “Are you cold?”

“No,” Dean replied. In truth, he still wasn’t feeling well, but he wasn’t going to admit it, not when that could ruin the rest of their impromptu vacation. “How’d you sleep? I didn’t hear you come in last night.”

It didn’t go past Aidan that he had changed the subject, but he’d humor him for now. “Like a rock. I probably came in about an hour after you fell asleep. Richard was trying to show us all the constellations. He’s filled with all kinds of knowledge, that one.”

Dean laughed genuinely. “Yeah he is.” Settling back into the pillow, he squeezed Aidan’s hip. “Thanks for this weekend. I needed this, to get away. I was going crazy stuck inside.”

“I know you were,” Aidan said as he passed a hand through Dean’s wild hair, and he leaned down to nip a little at his lips. “That’s the only reason I agreed. I just don’t want you to get sick again.”

“Mm,” Dean instinctively tilted his head back to receive Aidan’s lips. “I won’t. I promise.”

“You better keep that promise, you wanker,” Aidan teased him. “You’ve given me enough gray hairs for one lifetime. Now get over here.”

Aidan dropped to his back and easily pulled Dean on top of him. They were clothed only in their briefs, and the naked feeling of hard muscle, chest-to-chest, had him burning in _need_. 

They had been going slow since the accident. Aidan had known he couldn’t rush things, not when Dean was still physically ill, still borderline depressed. His near-death experience and recovery had put a whole new perspective on what Aidan felt towards him. His once innocent attraction to his coworker had somehow morphed into an overwhelming desire to _care_ for this man; to curl around him each and every night and share his life and his family and to grow old exploring the world together.

Aidan was head over heels for him, and wanted him in _every way_ possible.

And he was sure the trip had finally awakened Dean’s spirit again, especially with the way he was currently _moaning_ into their kiss. A rush of adrenaline hit him then, tingling, and he grinned against Dean’s lips, because he was sure that Dean wanted him just as much.

“God, Dean,” he whispered. He pulled his hands up and down the expanse of Dean’s back, exploring the warm skin, the slender figure.

Dean shivered, whining from his touch, and pulled away to look down at the man beneath him. Aidan’s eyes were dark and full of lust, but also something more. Maybe it was adoration and the thought of that just made something knot up on his throat. It scared to him feel this loved. Aidan never once made him feel weak or a burden during the weeks following his hospital stay, and here he still was, making his sickly, skinny body feel _worshiped_.

Dean cupped Aidan’s jaw, and leaned down one more time to kiss him before he pulled away to taste Aidan’s neck.

“Oh,” Aidan whined.

He spent time at that tiny, sensitive spot just below Aidan’s ear, bruising the skin as he sucked and licked. He moaned when he felt Aidan’s hips shift, opening in wanton invitation.

“Fuck, Aid,” he whimpered.

He journeyed down even further, dragging his lips over the tiny hill of his collarbone, across his muscled, naked pectoral muscle and over to close his mouth around the pert nipple. Aidan was moaning, not loud enough for the others to hear, but deep and throaty and driving Dean’s desire to intense new heights.

Dean pushed up, finding Aidan’s gaze who was following each little movement he made with wide eyes.

He couldn’t stand it any longer. His body was on fire and he needed it, _now_.

The lube was in his bag at the foot of their blowup mattress, and just as he went to bend sideways to reach for it, the muscles in his leg exploded in agony.

 _He’d forgotten about his damned leg_. 

Crying out, lube now entirely forgotten, Dean practically collapsed on top of Aidan, curling in on himself as he clutched at his calf.

“Shit! Shit, are you okay?” Aidan bolted upright, jostling Dean who cried out again, and he was murmuring apology after apology as he guided his boyfriend down to lay on the bed. Pushing the covers down that had become tangled around them, he took the blond’s leg into his lap so he could take a closer look.

“Don’t,” Dean whimpered. “Don’t touch it.”

The calf itself was seizing visibly, the muscles there tight and corded in their painful contractions. He winced in sympathy, and then looked closer at the wound, but thankfully there was no renewed bleeding, and the stitches holding the drain were still intact. Dean must’ve just pulled the healing muscle in the wrong direction.

He easily pushed aside the hands that were reaching to clutch at his leg, and then he slowly and gently worked his thumbs into the jerking muscles. At first, Dean whined, nearly in tears, but he finally began to ease back into the bedding as the pain began to ebb.

Aidan didn’t stop until a few minutes had passed, concentrating solely on the tense muscles in his lap, and when he finally did look up, his boyfriend was limp, breathing heavily and sweating, but no longer shaking from the pain.

“Better?”

Dean took a couple of guarded breaths, releasing his tight hold on the covers. “Yeah. Sorry about that.” He cheeks were flushed from embarrassment.

“Hey. Stop that right now,” Aidan said. He leaned down, peppering small kisses along Dean’s forehead, nose, and finally his lips. “I don’t want one more apology coming from these sexy,” _kiss_ , “delicious,” _kiss,_ “lips,” _kiss_ , “of yours,” _kiss_. “Besides, it gives me something to looks forward to, tonight, yeah?”

Dean’s lips quirked a little. “Yeah.”

“You boys ready to take off?” Richard’s voice came from a few feet away, loud but hesitant, as if he knew just what had been going on inside the tent. “We have a lot of road to cover.”

“Yeah, give us a minute!” Aidan said back. The sounds of him and Adam packing up camp fell over them. He sat on the edge of the bed, pulling a clean t-shirt over his head after he’d handed Dean his morning medications. “Why don’t you get dressed and have a seat outside while I pack up? It’ll give your meds a few minutes to start working before we head on.”

As Aidan started bringing their bags and packing up their bedding into the truck bed, Dean sat on the edge of the mattress. He threw on a white tee and cargo shorts and then drew attention to his bum leg. Over night he’d let his wound air out, but now that he’d be around company during the day and probably hiking again, he decided it would be best covered. Carefully, he held a piece of gauze with ointment at the worst of his injury, and then wrapped his calf in an ace bandage, finally pining his drain to it with a safety pin. Thankfully, it was empty, so the others wouldn’t be subjected staring at the gross fluid.

When Dean emerged from the tent, Richard had breakfast all ready for them; bagels with cream cheese and bacon fried over the fire. He still felt sick from this morning, and his stomach churned a little at the smell, so he refused breakfast. Instead, he went to sit in the back seat of the truck as the others finished eating and packed up site, and only relaxed once they drove off.

Aidan, sensing Dean’s unease, took his leg and elevated it on his lap, kneading the muscles again that had started to tense. The blond looked over in appreciation, but Aidan just smiled and handed him a bottle of Ensure.

“Drink,” he said. “You haven’t been eating. You won’t feel well if you don’t get something in you.”

Dean knew it was true, and tried to drink as much of it as he could. He’d already felt a little dizzy this morning, and knew he was probably walking the thin line of malnutrition. He’d lost a fair amount of weight since the accident, but truthfully, his meds were making it hard to keep an appetite and even keep food down.

“Alright, so I think if I read the map right, we have to drive about 80 kilometers south and then we’ll reach Low Peak of Mount Cook. We can camp there until Sunday evening.”

Adam was already grinning in excitement. “Brilliant! One of the extras was telling me the best place to camp is right here,” he said, pointing to a tiny spot on the map. “I guess it’s pretty secluded, not too many people know about it.”

“Oh yeah?” Richard asked in amusement. “Is this the orc or the goblin that you’re speaking of? Andrew the goblin was taking a real fancy towards you the other week.”

Adam grumbled and blushed furiously. “Yes, I remember. He came on a bit strong, not really my type.”

Dean and Aidan laughed out back, clearly remembering the extra’s infatuation with the small man.

“Not your type? I seem to remember quite the bashful conversations you two had during breaks.”

“That?” Adam looked over at him incredulously. “ _That_ was not bashful conversation. _That_ was forced interaction because he always went to block the snacks and pies. I was hungry!”

“Dean,” Aidan whispered. He wiggled his eyebrows and gestured towards the two men up front. Dean looked closer and saw Richard’s hand leave the stick shift and fall right next to Adam’s leg. Adam didn’t seem to notice at all as he continued his one-sided and very heated explanations of proper etiquette and how that was not flirting, _thank you very much_.

Dean burst out laughing. For a second, Richard took his eyes off the road to glance in the rearview mirror, and he looked at them curiously. “What are you two doing back there? Causing trouble?”

“If only you knew,” Aidan laughed, but noticed Richard blush slightly and move his hand back into his lap.

“I should’ve known,” Richard said. “I know you two better than that!”

As they drove further and further north into the mountains, the conversation easily flowed, and after another two hours, Richard had his hand back next to Adam’s leg, and Adam looked so happy, that the smile never left his face.

“So, Peter’s given you two an extra week off? Any big plans?” Richard asked them.

“Nothing so far. We’ll see if Dean’s still feeling okay by Monday, maybe we’ll take another road trip,” Aidan winked at him.

“I’d like that,” Dean said honestly. “If everything looks good, I’ll get my drain out at Monday’s check up. Maybe I can even skip out on PT for a few days so we can take a drive. I could do the exercises wherever we go!”

“Absolutely not!” Aidan quickly retorted. “You heard what they had to say. If you don’t do it properly, you could lose…” He trailed off, suddenly finding himself on a very bad topic, especially with the way Dean’s face fell. He cleared his throat and tried to casually change the topic. “Well, maybe. I can take a look at the pamphlets they gave us and we’ll see if it’s easy enough to do from home.”

Dean’s eyes lightened a little at that, and just as he got out the words “Thank you”, Adam was yelling out front.

“ _Watch out_!”

Aidan’s heart dropped into the pit of his stomach at the tone of his scream, but even as he whipped his head to see out the window, he couldn’t see anything passed Richard’s head. In one moment, he heard a distressed cry from Dean, a horrified curse from Richard, and then the truck was screeching along the dirt path, skidding sideways and stuttering against the rocky earth. In the next moment, the truck was airborne. Aidan only had seconds to feel the absolute terror of what was happening, his heart thudding impossibly hard in his chest, and then the truck landed on only its left tires and it was flipping and rolling down a steep embankment, dust and debris flying high into the sky. At some point, he lost consciousness as his head connected with the side of the window, and then finally, the vehicle came to rest against a tree line about 50 meters down the mountain.

A flock of birds took flight, screeching from the impact into the trees, but after a few minutes, it became completely silent and still except for the hissing and smoking of the Chevy engine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I'd love to hear what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It came to my attention that not everyone knows what "whump" is. Silly me, as I went awhile without knowing what it really meant, either.
> 
> To me, Whump is very similar to the genre Hurt/Comfort. Some view it as the same thing, some consider whump to be a bit more intentional/less focused on the actual story line or plot. It's a story that's heavy on the hurt, where you physically or psychologically put your favorite character(s) through difficult/scary/painful situations. I believe the term came from the Stargate fandom many many years ago.

Dean was the first to wake. 

Eyes closed, he took in the world around him. His body felt heavy, like he’d just woken from a deep sleep. He had a brief thought that maybe it was the extra painkiller he’d taken before they left camp, but something just felt.. _off_. Another moment passed where his senses woke a little further, and that’s when he smelt it.

Fumes. Hot metal.

Startled, he forced his eyes open and was shocked to feel a wave of vertigo; the world tilted around him despite him being firmly planted in his seat. He swallowed hard, pinched his eyes shut and took a few deep breaths to try to calm the rising nausea.

His pills shouldn’t make him feel this way; he’d been taking them for weeks and he’d never felt this sick. But the deeper in he breathed, the more he took in the awful stench of burnt oil and rubber, and that’s what forced him to open his eyes again.

This time, the world wasn’t as swirly, and he when looked forward to where the windshield used to be, half of it was gone, and the rest was spider webbed and shattered. His eyes focused even more, and that’s when he saw Richard and Adam, slumped forward and unconscious in their seats.

_Unconscious?_

The broken windshield and warped metal of the cab clicked after a second of staring in shock. Accident. They’d been in a _fucking accident_.

A small sound escaped his throat, choked and horrified, and he snapped his head to the right where Aidan had been sitting. Pain shot down his neck and into his spine, but couldn’t think of anything, couldn’t breathe, because Aidan was no longer there.

The seat was _empty_.

“Oh God. Oh God,” Dean’s hands were shaking like he was having a seizure, and he tried to unbuckle himself, missing time and again but finally he clicked the button open.

“Rich? Adam?”

Silence.

“Oh fuck. Shit. Richard?”

His quaking hands reached for the door handle because he couldn’t see them from his angle, and Aidan was still _fucking missing_ , and he had to shove his whole weight into the door before it creaked open. Scrambling out of the truck, his numb legs shook like a newborn colt’s and he collapsed into the dirt. Breath whistling through clenched lungs, he clawed his way back up the truck, and he finally got his feet under him.

“Aidan? _Aidan_?” Dean’s voice was high, cracking from a full out panic. He’d already completely forgotten any pain in his body from the surge of adrenaline. Stumbling around the front of the truck, he nearly collapsed again when he saw Aidan’s body, lifeless and crumpled in front of a thick oak tree.

“Oh my God, oh fuck. _Aid_?” Dean dropped to his knees, heart hammering wildly in his chest at the sight of the younger man.

Aidan was pale, blood sopping the whole right side of his head; his hair was wet and matted from it. He reached out with trembling fingers, feeling at the cool neck, and let out a distressed wail when he felt nothing.

“No no no no nononono..”

He readjusted his touch, digging in hard, until he felt a steady beat beneath his fingertips. Dean whimpered at the feeling, lingering there just a few moments to reassure himself of the beating pulse, that his boyfriend was indeed alive.

But he didn’t know what to do.

He moaned again in abject despair; Aidan was alive, but what about his other friends, unresponsive in the cab of the truck? Dean was just about to stand to go check on them when Aidan shifted on the ground, groaning a little.

“No, no, love, don’t move,” he said, sounding small, pleading. “Baby, don’t move.”

Aidan cracked open his eyes, and then winced at the blinding daylight.

“Baby, you’re okay,” Dean repeated himself over and over, nearly hysterical. His leg was just starting to cramp from the position he was crouched in, but he refused to move. “Can you hear me?”

“Dean?” Aidan rasped.

“I’m right here, Aid.”

“What.. what happened?”

Dean forced out a stuttered breath. “I… I’m not sure. We were in an accident.”

“Fuck… my head,” he whimpered and tried to clutch at it.

“Don’t touch it, you could hurt it worse,” Dean said and gripped the man’s hands tight within his own. “Do you hurt anywhere else?”

“I don’t know,” Aidan said as he rolled his head back and forth on the ground, grimacing in agony. “My head.”

“You’re going to be okay, I promise you, help will be here soon.”

But then the thought struck him hard, like a punch to the gut, that _no one was around_ , and he’d been the first to wake. Help wasn’t on the way yet, in fact, after glancing up at the deserted dirt road from where they’d crashed, no one would’ve known they were even hurt.

_Dammit, O’Gorman_ , he cursed to himself and pulled out his phone from his cargo pocket. It had thankfully survived the crash unscathed, but his heart sank when he turned on the screen, because he remembered they hadn’t had service for miles.

He swallowed hard. “Stay right here, baby. Stay awake, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Dean went to climb to his feet, but the Irishman clung to him. “Don’t go,” he moaned as tears welled up in the corners of his eyes.

“I’ll be right back, I promise. I need to go check on the others and call for help. 

That seemed to catch Aidan’s attention, because his forehead pinched. “They’re hurt too? How.. how bad?”

“I don’t know, love. I’m going to go check. Don’t move,” he leaned down to kiss Aidan’s forehead gently, because he didn’t know how badly concussed he was.

Dizziness crashed over him at the change in position as he leaned over, and Dean had to catch himself with his hand on the ground. He inhaled deeply, trying to stabilize his shocked system. Slower to change his position this time, he climbed to his feet, but that didn’t stop the lightheadedness, it only worsened, and he stumbled, barely catching himself on the same tree Aidan had been thrown into.

But he continued forward.

He reached the driver’s side door first. It wasn’t caved in like the passenger’s side, so he was able to open the door fairly easily.

“Rich?”

The sight of his dear friends, slumped over, pale and wheezing, was enough to bring him to tears. Nevertheless, they were breathing and that’s all that mattered. Richard was bleeding from a laceration near his eyebrow where he must’ve struck the steering column; blood coated his face, but the wound itself wasn’t too deep. Both of their necklines were pink from airbag burns, but it was the airbag themselves that seemed to have prevented them from any more serious injuries.

Staring at them and clutching the warped metal door, Dean didn’t know what to do. The phone still grasped tightly in his left hand was a reminder that he needed to get to higher ground to get service, but he was terrified to leave his friends behind. Anything could happen while he was away, someone could stop breathing, but the simple fact remained that they needed help.

Fast. 

Dean dropped his hand from the door, and when it brushed his side, he nearly fainted from a sudden, excruciating bolt of pain. His vision blackened and only when he leaned against the cab of the truck for balance did he allow himself to look down at his lower abdomen.

“Oh shit.”

There was something imbedded in his side; a large slice of glass glinting in the rising sun, its sharp edges coated in a deep crimson. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of it and he felt faint.

With fingertips he could hardly feel from shock, he traced the edges to where it was embedded inside him. It was at least four inches wide, rooted deep and at an upward angle. He could feel it move with each breath.

Too scared to touch it any more and knowing he was losing precious time that his friends certainly didn’t have, he carefully tugged off his tee, tore it into a long strip, and wrapped it around his waist twice. It was wrapped on either side of the glass, stabilizing it so it couldn’t shift any further.

It would buy him time, but the longer he stood there taking care of his wound, the more his adrenaline began to fade, and his other injuries were making themselves known. Dean’s whole leg was throbbing, a sharp pain emanating from the center of his old wound. His head was pounding in time with his quick heartbeat, especially at a spot right above his left ear. But he didn’t have time to waste, not when he was the only one upright.

Stumbling to the back of the truck, the tonneau cover had thankfully kept their gear safe in the bed. He unlatched the tailgate and slowly began to sift through their gear until he found his own bag and their sleeping bags.

It took time, but he couldn’t leave the others yet. The possibility that he’d have to go high into the mountains to get service wasn’t lost on him, and the others had serious enough injuries that they could go into shock. He unzipped their sleeping bags to form blankets and went to Aidan first. Covering the trembling body in two of the sleeping bags, Dean quietly shh’d him when he made small, confused sounds. 

“It’s okay, babe. Just checking out your head.”

Aidan only mumbled in reply, and then fell silent again.

Luckily, he’d had first aid supplies in his bag to treat his own leg, and he could use them to care for Aidan’s head wound. Disinfecting it first, he carefully padded it in gauze and then wrapped an ace bandage around his head. It quickly soaked with blood.

“Be right back, babe.”

Dean staggered back over to the truck and covered both Richard and Adam with the remaining sleeping bags. He hurriedly dressed Rich’s head wound, using up the remaining gauze he had left, and then thanked whoever out there was watching that Adam wasn’t bleeding.. at least on the outside.

The fact that they hadn’t regained consciousness was worrying in itself. It scared him into moving quicker, and he made his last stop back over to Aidan.

“Aidan?”

Aidan’s eyes opened, this time a little more clear than they had been before. “Dean?”

“Baby, I’ll be right back, okay? I need to get back to the road to find some service so I can call for help.”

His boyfriend’s eyes grew impossibly wide. “No, no don’t leave.”

“I promise, I’ll be right back. You and Rich and Ads need help, and I don’t have service down here. As soon as I reach help, I’ll be back.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” he tucked the sleeping bags closer to Aidan. It would keep him warm and hopefully stave off the effects of shock. Thankfully, Aidan had also come to rest underneath the trees, so he wouldn’t be directly under the hot sun.

He climbed to his feet, wincing.

“You’re hurt,” Aidan said breathlessly. He had only just seemed to realize that Dean was shirtless except for the fabric wrapped around his waist, and then his eyes trailed there, seeing the blood. “Oh God, Dean. You’re hurt!” In panic, he tried to get up, but collapsed and cried out.

“Stop it! I’m okay, I’m fine, lay back down,” he dropped back to his knees, this time hiding the wince as his bad leg flared in pain. “Babe, stop.”

“Don’t lie to me!” Aidan was crying again, pale, and he started to dry heave. His head injury must’ve been worsening, and panicking himself, Dean helped his boyfriend to lie on his side, which seemed to calm some of the nausea.

“Don’t lie,” he said in between gulping breaths. “You always say you’re fine.”

“Listen to me. Do you hear me?” Dean forced himself to suppress the shaking in his voice. “You can’t move this much, you’re only going to hurt yourself worse. Yes, I’m bleeding a little bit, but I’m okay. Better than you three. I’ll be fine until the medics get here, but I need to go call them, do you understand? We need help. You need help, and the only way we’re going to get it is if I find service.”

Aidan was silent for a few moments, then finally nodded in acceptance. “Be careful? Come back.”

“I will,” Dean leaned down to kiss him, and then got to his feet.

Giving one last glance to Aidan, then Rich and Adam where they were still slumped in unconsciousness, he looked up at the hill they’d rolled down in unease. It would be a difficult climb, and he had a gnawing feeling he’d have to go even further up into the mountain to gain service.

He took in a breath, hoping to calm his nerves, and then began his way up the hill, dragging his bum leg behind him because he’d lost his cane in the accident. He pushed aside the fear, in pain but determined, because he was the only hope they had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and I'd love to hear what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to **Mee, Queen of Asgard, TH, mooshkabug, mosslover, SallyMcBride, FKTF, Silva_13, and jx437** for your kind comments. Your words are FAR more encouraging than you’ll ever know.

Dean woke to feeling hot. Achingly, uncomfortably hot.

Something sharp and scratchy was digging into his backside, and so he dazedly blinked his eyes open. The high noon sun was beating down on his bare skin, burning his exposed face and chest.

He frowned, scanning the trees around him; everything was silent except for the gentle breeze that rustled the leaves.

_Where am I?_ He thought in bewilderment. Planting his hands firmly at his sides, he pushed up into a sitting position and that’s when white-hot pain – _agonizing_ pain tore through his abdomen and lower chest.

The air left his lungs in a shocked wheeze. Terrified, he looked down and saw a large slice of glass entering his stomach, coated in crimson. Memories of the crash hit him hard, like a punch to the gut, and in the next moment, he was pushing himself to his feet in panic.

_Service. Dammit, Dean, move!_

Despite the sweaty, cold feeling that washed over him, he continued stumbling up the mountain in sheer determination.

_Higher ground_. _Need higher ground…_

_Aidan needs you._ He whimpered out loud as his bad leg stumbled over a root, and he nearly fell.

_They need you._ His broken thoughts and exhausted mind urged him forward. _Depending on you._

_Go. Go._

_Go._

_Hurry._

_Need you. They need you._

____________________

 At the same time, over two kilometers down the mountain, Richard had woken to the smell of lingering fumes and hot, burnt metal.

Seeing the broken windshield and shattered glass around him, he’d quickly come to remember what had taken place: a lone deer jumping in front of his truck, then losing control of his truck as it lost its traction in the loose dirt, only to lose consciousness to the sounds of twisting metal and exploding tires. He’d only just managed to control his panic, when he turned to see Adam next to him - sweet, gentle Adam - wheezing but otherwise deadly still.

“ _Oh_ , Adam.”

Heart pounding wildly in his aching chest, he reached over to take his shoulder. “Adam, wake up. Oh God, Adam, wake up. Please.”

He squeezed the smaller man’s shoulder a little tighter, and that’s when he let out a breathy grunt, face screwing up in what could only be pain.

“Easy, easy. Are you with me now?”

But Adam didn’t respond any further, instead becoming lax in his grip. “No, no no. Ads? Talk to me.”

The silence in the truck and his own panic was becoming crushing. He only had a brief moment to drown in his own self-guilt when horror struck him anew.

Because Adam wasn’t the only passenger in the truck.

Despite the shooting pain his neck, he twisted around to look out back, searching out his friends.

The seats were empty.

Swallowing down a low keen, he turned to face forward, and he was hit with the realization of why the windshield was broken. Because if he looked close enough, he could see blood on some of the sharp edges, and just passed the warped front end of the hood, he could see a small lump with a wild mop of hair covered under a familiar-looking sleeping bag.

“ _No_ ,” A strange, torn whimper escaped the back of his throat. “Oh no. Stay here, Ads, don’t move.”

Numb hands scrambled against the door handle and he shoved it open, but he was quickly thrown back into his seat by his seatbelt. With shaking fingers, he fumbled with the buckle until it finally clicked, and then he was stumbling over to the still figure.

It was Aidan.

And he wasn’t moving.

“Oh Christ, what have I done?” He fell to his knees, ignoring his blinding headache that pounded in time with his heartbeat. “Aidan?”

The boy beneath him moaned and slowly wakened. Dark brown eyes, glazed and red-rimmed, slowly tracked up to meet Richard’s alarmed gaze. He croaked, “Rich?”

“Aid,” he sighed in relief, and gently reached out to cup his jaw. “Thank God.”

“Rich,” he repeated slowly, then looked around as if searching for something. He swallowed, tongue working hard to do so, then looked back up to his friend. Anxiously, he slurred, “Rich, is Dean back?”

The older man looked around him, but the blond was nowhere in sight. “Where did he go? I don’t see him.”

“No service here,” Aidan said. “Went to call for.. help.”

“ _What_?” He asked, stunned. “When? Where?”

“I don’t know,” the Irishman whimpered. He shifted a little under the blanket, obviously becoming more and more anxious. “I don’t know. It was still morning when he left. I- I keep falling asleep.”

“Shh, calm down,” Richard soothed despite his own growing anxiety. The sun was high in the sky now, it was at least noon, so Dean had to have been gone for at least three hours. He should have been back by now. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

“He’s hurt too. He made sure we were okay before he left.. but.. he’s hurt, too.”

The scratchy feeling at his head made much more sense now, and he touched it to find a piece of gauze taped to the worst of his injury.

“He was? How so?” Richard asked.

“Stomach,” Aidan said. “He was bleeding there. And there.. there was blood in his hair, too.. but he wouldn’t.. wouldn’t let me see.”

“Okay,” Richard sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was torn between staying with Aidan and Adam and going to search for Dean. His friend was undoubtedly injured and had been gone a worrying amount of time, but he couldn’t leave the others, not when Dean could be anywhere alongside the mountain now.

Instead, he searched for the right words to calm his clearly distressed friend. “You know Dean. He is very smart and knows his way around outdoors. I’m sure he’s fine and knows where he’s going. I bet he’s even gotten ahold of some help, so let’s just focus on you right now. Where else are you hurt?”

Aidan was halfway through shaking his head when he went pale at the movement, his throat working like he was trying not to throw up. After a minute, he said, “Just… just my head. I’m sore but I don’t think anything’s broken.”

“Where are you sore?”

“Just.. shoulder, mostly.”

Richard carefully pulled at the neck of Aidan’s shirt, and instantly saw the skin at his right shoulder swollen and bruised. It was likely where he’d hit the tree. It looked exceptionally painful, so he refrained from touching it. “It might be broken. I don’t want to move it around though, so keep still.”

Suddenly behind them, Adam’s sharp cry echoed through the valley. Richard had just turned around to see him shove open the passenger side door and fall to the ground, puking violently into the dirt.

“Adam!” He cried. He hastily got to his feet and murmured quickly to Aidan, “don’t move,” before rushing to the small man, gathering him in his arms.

“Oh God, oh God,” Adam cried in the midst of a full-blown panic attack. He collapsed against Richard. “What happened? Oh _fuck_.”

“You’re fine, listen to me, Adam. Listen to my voice,” he soothed, trying to keep his voice steady as he held the trembling body. “We were in an accident, but help will be on the way. You need to calm down. Are you hurt?”

“What happened? I feel sick,” he sobbed in between heaving breaths. “I don’t want to die. I don’t.”

“You aren’t dying. Just breathe, in time with me. You’re having a panic attack right now. Breathe, Ads.”

Adam curled even closer into his chest, twisting the fabric of his shirt in his small hands. Tears immediately gathered in the corners of Richard’s eyes at the action, and he gripped him even tighter.

How had this even happened?

_What had he done?_

When Adam’s cries eventually eased, he nudged his cheek into the sweaty curls, kissing his forehead as shame twisted deep in his stomach. His voice cracked, “Now tell me. Where are you hurt?”

Adam looked up at him with red, swollen eyes. “My chest hurts some.”

Richard’s heart skipped, but he managed to mask any of the panic that he suddenly felt. “I’m going to take a look, okay?”

Gently, he pushed up the thin tee and found deep purple bruising along his pelvis and chest, an exact outline of where his seatbelt had caught him. With just the tips of his fingers, he felt along his ribcage, thankfully not feeling any bones shift under his touch, but Adam moaned and flinched away.

“Okay, okay. I won’t touch anymore. Nothing feels broken.”

Trembling, Adam reached out to clutch at his hand. He whispered, “I’m scared.”

“Don’t be scared, I have you,” he said, and held him a little tighter. “I want to bring you over to where Aidan is lying, okay? That way I can watch you both.”

“Aidan?” Adam’s eyes grew wide. “Is he hurt?”

“He’s fine,” Richard said, intentionally leaving out the details about his head wound.

“And Dean?”

“Dean went to get help,” and before Adam could question him any further about that, he scooped up the small-framed man and laid him directly next to Aidan. Richard made sure to cover them both in the sleeping bags, and then sat down himself, nearly succumbing to sudden exhaustion and a pounding headache. The temperature had risen substantially as the sun rose, but thankfully they were in the shade and the valley had an ever-present breeze.

Closing his eyes, he prayed Dean had been able to reach someone, and more importantly that he was okay. Because they all needed help, and fast.

____________________

It didn’t take long for the dizzying nausea to turn into actual dry heaves. It had happened while Dean was navigating a particularly steep part of the mountain, weaving in between dense ferns and boulders and across thick underbrush. The route wouldn’t have been easy even for a healthy man, yet he was both sick and injured, and was using whatever he could in his path – large rocks, trees – to keep him upright.

“No,” he moaned pitifully, and held his aching stomach as he gagged. He stood there, clutching his middle until it settled, and then pushed himself forward, staggering as the world tilted around him.

He’d only walked another ten yards when his bad leg caught a particularly thick patch of wet, moldy leaves, and it sent him collapsing unexpectedly to the earth. Luckily, he still had half a mind to catch himself with his hands before the ground came in contact with glass still embedded in his side, and he immediately dropped onto his back instead.

Above him, the high sun noon sun beat down on his shocked body that shivered in tiny bursts. His exposed skin had turned a shade of bright red, and despite how incredibly heated he felt, he’d stopped sweating what felt like hours ago.

Swallowing harshly around his dry tongue, he lifted his phone up into his vision and then paused.

Service. 

_He finally had service_!

One tiny bar flickered on and off in the top corner, and he had to squint at it for a few seconds to make sure he wasn’t just hallucinating. The next thing he knew, his fingers were working for him, automatically dialing a number he’d long-since memorized.

As he brought the phone to his ear, he stared up at the sky again, glaring at the hot sun. Off in the distance, a few wispy clouds were traveling north, and he found himself praying that they would move a little closer to give him shade.

Suddenly overcome with extreme fatigue from lying still, he nearly lost consciousness. But something held him back.

…Ringing?

_Rrring…_

_Rrrrring…_

Dean frowned at the repetitive noise.

“Hello?”

The voice startled him and he physically flinched at it. Shocked, he pulled his hand into his field of vision and realized he was holding a cell phone.

“… Hello? Dean?”

He squinted at the screen. ‘LEX’ was displayed at the top in bold letters.

_Why was Lex calling him_?

 “Dean?” The small tinny voice came from the microphone. Slowly, he brought the phone back to his ear.

“ ‘lo?” He rasped.

“Dean? What’s going on?” 

Something felt wrong and his body felt funny, disorientated. He felt thick, like his thoughts were trying to navigate through molasses. “Uh, I.. I dunno. Think I call..ed you by acc’dent.” Dean paused again, not understanding why it felt so hard to push words around his uncooperative tongue. “S’rry. Ta.”

“Hold on,” Lex’s stern voice halted his thumb, which was about to press the big red button on his phone. “What’s wrong? You sound off.”

Dean didn’t know. All he knew was that he was very tired and he wanted to go back to sleep. The hot sun above him was burning his skin, and for some reason, his abdomen ached.

“Talk to me, Dean,” Lex said, demanding now, almost like he was being scolded.

He whimpered.

“Do you need me to come by your place?” The medic continued. “Where’s Aidan, is he with you?”

Aidan.

_Aidan_.

Dean bolted upright, and was immediately halted by the agonizing pain in his stomach; he fell to his side. “OhmyGod, Llllex. Lex. Lex. Accident. _Accident._ ”

“Accident? You were in an accident? Dean, you need to call for an ambulance!”

“Lllex,” he barely made out. “Accident.”

“Where, Dean? Tell me where, I’ll call you an ambulance. I’ll come meet you.”

“Mountains.”  
  
“Mountains?”

“Camping. Mountains.. no service.”

With his free hand, he weakly pushed back his curly bangs that had fallen in his face, now filled with dirt and dried bits of leaves. He winced again at the blinding sun. “‘s’bright.”

“Where, Dean? Tell me!”

“Bright,” Dean heaved through his nausea. “Sun.”

“ _What mountain did you go to?_ ”

Mountain. Camping. That’s right. “Um.. Cook.. Mount Cook.”

“Listen to me, Dean. Listen. I’m going to call for the rangers and EMS. I’m not too far; I can meet up with them and come to you. Now who’s with you?”

“Aidan’s hurt. They’re all hurt.”

“Who?”

“Rich. Adam. Aid. All hurt.”

“Okay. You’re going to be fine, buddy. Are you hurt, too?”

Dean hurt everywhere. “No.”

“Are you with them?”

“No. No service.. um, Lex? Why.. why did you call mme?”

A pause. “You were in an accident, Deano. Sounds like you’re in a fair bit of shock, okay? So I want you to stay right where you are while I call for help, yeah? Stay right there, I’m gonna put you on hold while I call.”

“No-o,” Dean fought to get his feet under him, but they just scrambled weakly in the dirt. “No. Have to go back. You’re calling?”

“ _Stay_ , Dean. Stay right there. I don’t want you to get lost, you sound hurt, bud.”

“No. Call them.”

“I’m going to, but you need to promise me you’re going to stay right where you are. We’re going to need to come find you.” 

“K.”

Dean waited until Lex put him on hold, and then he disconnected the call. He knew he could trust the man, knew Lex would call the right people to get them help, and so he stuffed the phone in his pocket and climbed to his feet. Feeling incredibly wobbly, he didn’t even know how he was going to be able to stay upright, especially with the way the ground seemed to roll under him.

_Accident_ , he reminded himself wildly. _They’d been in an accident and his friends were hurt._

_Aidan was hurt. He needed to go back. Back to the accident._

_Needed to make sure they were still alive._

_Go get Aidan. Aidan. AidanAidanAidan…_

As he descended, the trail eventually diverted and Dean had a choice to make. He turned around to face uphill to try to remember which way he’d come from earlier. 

“Thhis.. w-ay,” he slurred to himself out loud.

Dean then incorrectly resumed his descent into the forest; he was actually going deeper and deeper into the mountain, and he didn’t realize his mistake until it was far too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment, I'd love to hear what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to **Queen of Asgard, delank_89, ThornyHedge, Mee, dsynmi, FiliKiliThorinForever, jx437, Im_a_huge_fan_of_coffee, Silva_13, and mosslover** for your comments. You are the inspiration for my muse! I love to hear what you think, and I love to hear what you want to happen. In fact, Mee, you'll see one of your suggestions early on in this chapter :o)
> 
>  
> 
> " **LandSAR** " is New Zealand's search and rescue organization. They are a group of volunteer professionals who spend thousands of hours training for and rescuing the lost, missing, and injured. I spent a lot of time researching what they do in real life, and have had fun incorporating it into the coming chapters. 
> 
> That being said, I'm not from New Zealand, nor am I a trained rescue or medical professional. So please forgive me for any mistakes and remember this is all pure fiction and was written for the sake of whumping our boys.

“No, _no_ , put me in direct contact with chief Mike Hersey. Now,” Lex demanded as he paced his small kitchen in clear distress. “No, I do not want to speak to Lee, I don’t care that Mike’s in a meeting. Put him on the phone, tell him it’s Charlie Lex and it’s urgent.”

“Charlie, honey,” Elena, his wife, murmured from across the room. The woman was petite, nearly half the size of the large New Zealander. She stood looking shaken over a bowl of homemade cookie dough, hand paused in the middle of mixing as she listened to the tense one-sided conversation.

Lex shook his head and breathed deeply through his nose, looking as if he might bulldoze their kitchen table in his rage.

“Daddy?” His daughter asked. Charlotte, their five year old daughter, was still in her pajamas, and looking doe-eyed at her father’s strange behavior.

“Not now, sweetheart,” Elena murmured. “Here, why don’t you go into the living room and stir this for mum?” She handed her daughter the bowl and wooden spoon to keep her busy, and shooed her into the adjacent room.

“Mike! Thank God!” Lex came alive as he heard his former chief answer the call. “It’s Charlie. Listen, I have a situation, I wanted to call you directly instead of dispatch. I need you and anyone available to meet me at Mount Cook. I have four men who have been in a car accident, all with injuries.. Yes.. Yes. I’m leaving now. I have one man on the other line, I’ll get coordinates to you as you’re on your way. And radio over a few LifeFlights, I have a feeling we’re going to need them. Thanks, Mike, I’ll call you back.”

Lex immediately ended the call, but his face dropped even further when he realized he’d lost his connection with Dean. “Dammit. No.” Fingers scrambling, he dialed his friend’s number, only for the line to go directly to voicemail.

“Shit.”

He hurried over to their mudroom and began slipping on his boots as his dialed Aidan, Adam, and Richard’s numbers. As all his calls went unanswered, he was forced to call back his former chief.

“Mike, it’s me. I’ve lost connection with them, either no service or their batteries have died. I can’t give you any coordinates.. No, nothing. All he said was Mount Cook; I'm going to try to call a few of his cast-mates to see if they know anything.. Yeah, we’re gonna need to coordinate a Cat. One search and rescue. I’m thinking a search chopper to see if we can find any signs of them.. Got it, I’ll see you soon.”

Lex quickly disconnected the call and grabbed his pack from the back of the closet. After years of being on-call throughout his medical careers, he’d learned to always have an overnight pack stuffed with spare clothes, food, and his emergency medical supplies.

Elena rushed to him, reaching into the closet to hand him his jacket, and then hugged him tightly. “Call me. Be safe.”

“Just like old times, huh?” He allowed himself a quick smile, then kissed her forehead. “I will. I love you.”

Elena watched him leave, his truck tearing out of the dirt driveway, and then whispered, “I love you more.”

____________________

Radio static filled the cabin as the two pilots flew their search helicopter over Mount Cook. They spoke quickly to each other, knowing exactly what needed to be done to search for their missing persons.

“Do we know their last known point of location?”

“Negative. All the kid said was Mount Cook.”

“Damn.”

“Apparently the medic he contacted said they were on a camping trip.”

“Are they experienced hikers?”

“Doubtful.”

“Most likely the Low Peak, then. Let’s start at the east end, that site is pretty popular.”

Silence filled the cabin as they carefully combed the mountain and winding dirt roads for any sign of wreckage or disturbed ground. Then, fifteen minutes later:

“You seeing that, Jerry?”

“Looks like skid marks to me.”

“And a damaged guard rail.”

“I think that’s the truck between those trees. See it?”

“Shit. Yeah, that’s them.. LandSAR, we’ve got ‘em. They’re on the southern-most route heading away from the Glentanner Park Centre, by approximately 15 kilometers. Vehicle is about a hundred yards down a steep embankment, looks to be severely damaged. You’re going to need your med gear and possibly rigging gear to get ‘em out.”

“Doesn’t look good. I’m not seeing any movement down there.”

“LandSAR, we’ve got no safe place to land. How far out are your men? Twenty minutes?... Copy that. We’re heading back to base so the LifeFlights have room.”

The pilot eased the cyclic stick to the left, turning midair to begin their flight home. He freed one of his hands to thumb the small cross at his neck, bringing it gently to his lips and whispered a small prayer for those they were forced to leave behind.

____________________

Richard had been sitting against the scratchy bark of a tree trunk. On one side of him, Aidan laid unconscious, blood steadily seeping through the thick wad of bandages wrapped around his head. Though he was breathing steadily, he remained completely still despite Richard’s attempts to wake him. On the other side of him, Adam had curled up on his side, head resting in his lap, having just calmed from another panic attack. A half hour ago, a helicopter had hovered above them, had surely seen them, and then just left. The feeling of lost hope was so deep, Adam had literally sobbed until he could hardly breathe.

His fingers were working through Adam’s hair now, soothing him in the only way he knew how, when he first heard the long whirls of sirens growing steadily closer to their location. He had to blink a few times in confusion at the sound of them. Licking his dry lips, he looked around, seeing nothing except his warped truck and the two injured bodies on either side of him. He had spent the last few hours in a kind of trance after allowing himself to sink into his own grief. He felt completely numb, mind replaying each moment of the crash and how much his friends had suffered.

It was only when he saw lights at the crest of the hill that he allowed himself to sag in relief.

“Help! Over here!” His voice cracked around the desperate cry.

Behind the first ambulance, three more arrived, along with police cars, a fire truck, and other ranger and rescue vehicles; their combined sirens filled the small valley, driving his headache to new heights.

His breath rushed from his lungs at the sight of the uniformed men descending quickly down the steep and rocky slope.

“They’re here, Ads,” he whispered hoarsely. “It’s okay now.”

And though everything was far from okay, he kept up his tireless reassurances, thankful to feel Adam not shivering so hard.

“Sir?” One medic asked in alarm, and they all rushed towards them, dropping their bags of equipment and knelt next to the group.

“Aidan,” Richard said, gesturing to the unconscious man next to him. “Please, you have to help him first, he won’t wake up.”

“We will, sir, don’t worry about that. But we’ll need you to let go of him first."

In his desperation, Richard looked down to see his fist wrapped tightly in Aidan’s shirt. “Oh.” His grip released, fingers stiff from holding so hard for so long.

“Let’s get him on his back. We’re going to need to take spinal precautions, looks like a nasty head injury.”

“Can I get a c-collar?”

The medics eased the Irishman onto his back, holding tight to keep his body strictly aligned. They then threw open their kits, working in systematic tandem to get their victim assessed and stabilized. 

“Get some vitals on the kid while I establish an IV. He’s looking shocky. Might be internal bleeding, Kev can you check his chest and belly? Hey,” he looked directly at Richard, gaze piercing. “Was he thrown from the vehicle?”

“Yeah,” Richard whispered. Beside him, a young, baby-faced medic had finally eased Adam away from him, allowing her to ask him questions and obtain his vital signs.

“Hey, hon,” she said, inflating the blood pressure cuff which was wrapped around his arm. She was watching Adam intently, studying his reactions and posture and any signs of pain so she could quickly get an assessment. It only took a second to see his puffy, red eyes, still wet from tears, and his residual shaking. The man was clearly in shock from the accident. “What’s your name?”

“Adam,” he said softly.

"Do you remember what happened?"

He paused. "Um, not really. I think there was a deer in the road. We almost hit it."

She looked briefly to Richard, who nodded numbly.

“Can you tell me if you’re hurting anywhere?”

“No,” he said. “I’m fine.”

She removed the stethoscope from her ears and said to her partner, “Ninety-five over seventy. Pulse 100,” and then said to her patient, “okay, Adam. That’s okay.”

“He was unconscious for awhile,” Richard said, still hunched from his spot and intently watching each of his friends get treatment. He obstinately ignored one medic as he tried to speak to him, not interested in any sort of discussion about his health. “I think he may have hit his head on the dash.”

“Can I take a look, Adam?”

She felt along his head with gloved hands, pausing at a swollen spot just above his hairline. Though it wasn't an open wound, it was clearly painful. Then, she checked his ears and briefly looked up his nose for any signs of blood or cerebrospinal fluid. “He’s got a scalp injury, but I'm not feeling any deformities to his skull. He’s got a mild concussion, at least. Normal pupillary response.. There's also some first degree burns along his chest, probably from the airbag.”

“I told you I’m fine,” he said, on the edge of tears again. “Can you check on Aidan and Rich?”

The medic smiled warmly. “You are very brave, Adam. But my partners are taking very good care of your friends right now. I can tell you that he is in the best of hands that this department has.” Then, she said to her partner, “want to stay with him a moment? I’d like to check on his friend Richard here.”

Despite Richard’s attempts to brush her off, she sat directly in front of him, pulling her equipment bag with her. “Hello, there. I’m Kristin.”

“Richard,” he said. He was momentarily distracted by the way the group surrounding Aidan cut off his clothes, quickly palpating his chest and abdomen and limbs for obvious signs of trauma.

“Belly is slightly distended. There’s some bruising in his left upper quadrant, could be his spleen. Ribs seem okay. Shoulder’s dislocated anteriorly, clavicle's fractured. Nothing else feels broken.”

“C-spine feels clear, but I want to keep the collar on.”

“Pupils?”  
  
“Right is blown. He's got a depressed skull fracture.”

"Get him tubed, I don't want to risk losing him on the way to the chopper."

“Guys, BP’s 160/90, pulse 50, we need to move.”

“Get the backboard over here, now!”

“And get the rigging set to take him up hill. Hurry!”

“C’mon, stay with us, kid.”

"Hyperventilate him once the tube's in, 20 breaths per minute."

“Richard, hey.”

The medics were intubating his friend, placing intravenous lines, continuing to palpate his belly, and like a worsening train wreck, Richard couldn't turn away.

Kristin took his arm, gently guiding his gaze back to hers. “Hey, look at me. Your friend is getting the best of treatment right now. They’re going to LifeFlight him to the closest hospital. Now what I want right now is to focus on you. It’s very important for you tell me if you’re injured.”

“I just hit my head. It’s only a scratch.”

“Mind if I look?”

When he shook his head, she eased the tape from his skin, pulling back the gauze to reveal a fairly deep laceration that had already clotted itself. She palpated the area gently, then felt along the rest of his scalp and down his neck for further injuries.

“Not too bad. Looks like you got off fairly easy,” she said as she replaced the dirty gauze with a dry, clean one, and then began to take his vitals.

Richard flinched at that, drawing his gaze back to where a group of medics were running towards the slope, a crashing Aidan in-between them.

“Richard?” Adam’s pale expression found him, looking even further shocked at the sight of Aidan so sick. 

“He’s okay, bud,” Kristin’s partner said, as he tried to keep him distracted. “Hey, why don’t you help me hold this IV bag? Keep it slightly elevated, good, just like that. I’m gonna get this blanket open to get you a little warmer.”

Richard turned to Kristin, suddenly remembering something very important. “Have you heard from Dean?”

She frowned, pulling the stethoscope out of her ears. “Dean?”

“My friend, Dean O’Gorman. He was here, too. He had to go up the mountain to get service, he was the one who called for you. Is he at the hospital?”

“No, I haven’t heard, sorry. Our firefighters may, they were the one who got the call.”

Feeling uneasy with her response, Richard had just made the move to get up, when he saw someone practically sliding down the rocky slope, causing a small landslide of dirt and rocks around him as he rushed down. As the figure rushed closer, Richard nearly cried as he recognized the man to be Lex, looking more determined and purposeful than he’d ever seen him.

“Lex!” He whispered soundlessly. He climbed to his feet and pulled the medic in to a tight embrace. “Thank God you’re here.”

Lex, towering over Richard in height and build, briefly returned his grip, and then pulled him back to study him at an arms-length. Dried blood still covered his face, and his features were ashen. “Have you gotten medical attention? You’re injured.”

“Just a scratch,” he replied brusquely. “It was already looked at.”

“And you’re sure you’re not hurt elsewhere?”

“I’m sure.”

“Where’s Aidan? Dean?” Lex asked as he knelt next to Adam, taking his hand within his own, and brought his fingers to find the man's radial pulse. “Hey, bud.”

“They already left with Aid. He’s…” Richard trailed off, not able to find the words. Lex glanced up sharply, studying him, then nodded solemnly.

“I’ll make a call and see how he’s doing. And Dean?”

“We don’t know. He’s been gone since this morning.”

Lex’s frown deepened. He stood and ushered him away out of hearing distance. “I need to go talk to the rangers. No one’s heard from him since he called me, and his cell is useless. Do you know if he was injured before he left?”

Richard shook his head. “I didn’t see him. But Aidan said he was bleeding from his head and stomach.”

Lex sighed heavily. “I was worried about that. He was confused when we spoke. I’m hoping he hasn’t wandered too far into the forest. Hey… Looks like they’re packing Adam up for transport. Go to the hospital with him, I’m going to stay here and help the search team. I’ll call you to keep you updated.” 

“I can’t,” he whispered hoarsely. He turned to see the medics preparing Adam to be transferred, his small body pliable to their every touch, breath still hitching from lingering sobs. He knew Adam needed him, but the thought of leaving Dean on the mountain by himself was unbearable. “I.. I don’t know what to do. I know I need to be with Adam, but.. I need to stay here with you. I can’t just leave Dean here.”

“Absolutely not. I can’t allow you to walk out there with your head injury, Richard, not when you haven’t been fully checked over.”

“When you find him.. you’re bringing him back here, yeah?”

Lex nodded. “We’ll have to. I heard the chief over the radio, there’s only one safe point on this side of the mountain to land the LifeFlight, and it’s just up the hill. Taking him by ambulance will take too long.”

“I’ll wait here then.”

Lex sighed, a brief look of concern crossing his features over Richard’s flagging body, but he knew it would be useless to fight him. With a large hand, he took him at the elbow in a reinforcing grip. “I’m going to insist you get fully checked over while we're gone, then. We can go talk to the rangers about what you know, then I want you to sit with Kristin and let her examine you. No arguments.”

“I will, I promise.”

“Fine, go check on your boy first, looks like he needs you,” Lex nodded over to Adam, who had been strapped into a litter and wrapped in many blankets.

Richard rushed to him and dug into the blankets to find his cold hand. “Hey.”

“You’re going to stay?” Adam asked.

He had to swallow a lump in his throat, feeling overwhelmed at how small and fragile the man beneath him sounded. Before he could reply, Adam added, “I want you to. I mean… I heard Lex. I know he’s hurt.”

“He is,” Richard said. “But they’ll find him.”

“I understand, Rich, I do. Will you call me?”

“Of course I will,” Richard squeezed his hand and kissed his forehead. “I’ll call the hospital and have them put me through to you, because I think we lost our phones.”

Adam sniffed and closed his eyes, visibly trying to pull himself together. “Find him, okay? And be safe.”

Richard hummed, lingering to keep his lips pressed against the man’s forehead, not wanting to pull back. Finally when he did, he weakly smiled. “You just focus on resting.”

Adam nodded and the group of medics lifted his litter to begin the trek up the cliff.

“You’re in good hands,” Richard called after him. “Behave, got it?”

And then he was left at the bottom of the ravine, next to his totaled truck, staring at the retreating backs of the first responders, and hearing the distant whirl of a LifeFlight taking off in the distance.

“Hey,” Lex grabbed his arm. “Come with me. Let’s go talk to the rangers and get our boy back.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, back to Dean...
> 
> I'd love to hear what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not as long as I normally write, but it felt natural to break here. I hope you enjoy it as we begin to dive into the thick of things... Much more to come :o)
> 
> Thank you so much to **Silva_13, ThornyHedge, jx437, Monsters_missus, Im_a_huge_fan_of_coffee, QueenofAsgard, dealing_89, Mee, FiliKiliThorinForever, dsynmi, mosslover, and bammes**. Your feedback is always, always appreciated. It makes me warm and fuzzy and - bonus - it feeds the whump bunny.

A large group had gathered around a foldout table, upon which, a large map had been placed at the center. Surrounding it and in front of each medical and search team personnel were compasses, walkie-talkies, sat-phones, and other gear. Lex immediately introduced himself and Richard, and shook hands.

“Lex, I’m Alex,” the largest of the group said. He towered over Richard, built in the same way Lex was: tall and burly. His presence signaled skill and experience, and it comforted Richard some. “I heard you spoke to our vic last?”

Lex nodded. “Around noon time, yeah. All he could say was he’d been in an accident on Mount Cook, and that he didn’t have service. He mentioned coming back to the crash site before we lost connection. The phone must be dead now, it kept ringing then going to voicemail until approximately two. Now it’s going directly to voicemail.”

“The kid has to be lost,” one ranger said. “He’s been missing almost ten hours. Four since the first call to you was placed.”

“You can see his steps going up to the top of the ridge here, and then once the dirt becomes packed, his tracks disappear. We at least have a sense of direction as to where he was heading.”

“Is anyone out there searching right now?” Lex asked.

“We’ve got our hasty search team out now. They’re in pairs and moving quick up the mountain in high-probability areas. We’re going to follow with a grid search in just a few minutes.”

“Are there any natural trails he could have followed?”

The man shook his head, pointing to the map on the table, which was colored densely to represent thick brush and trees. “None up here. Since he started at this site, the most probable route up the mountain is up this way,” he traced a small spot of the map with his index finger. “It’s easier to walk, isn’t as rocky and the incline isn’t as steep. I doubt he’d be able to navigate anything else, not with the thick vegetation and if he’s injured.”

“He is,” Richard spoke up roughly. “Aidan said he was bleeding at his head and stomach.”

“He’s got an injured leg, too,” Lex added. “He was bit by a katipo a few weeks back and was hospitalized for awhile. He’s still recovering and has a drain in place.”

That added information made the majority of the rangers frown. Although the injuries might have slowed him down and reduced the amount of area they had to cover, it could also mean their victim was unconscious or worse.

“He’ll definitely be sticking to ground that’s easier to walk, then.”

“Do we know his last known signal?”

“None yet. He most likely got service around this point here,” one of the rangers pointed to a spot, high into the mountain and open from the forest. “If his highest altitude was there, and he planned on returning to the crash site, he could be anywhere between these points. Possibly further out if he’s lost and traveled east or west instead.”

Richard leaned in to the look at the map’s bar scale, then up to look at Lex in worry. The points between the ranger’s fingers were over 4 kilometers vertical up the mountain, and then another 6 across. As the two exchanged tense glances, the lead ranger called over any remaining people who hadn’t gathered close.

The group assembled, over thirty of them – police officers, EMS personnel, rangers, volunteer firefighters and medics, and other search and rescue team members. The multi-agency participation, and the sheer number of men and women that were involved, made Richard’s stomach clench.

It hit home that Dean was still missing and was truly in danger.

The ranger cleared his throat and gestured everyone to come closer. “Alright, listen everyone. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Alex, the chief ranger and I’ll be in charge of the search operation for Mr. Dean O’Gorman. Dean was a passenger in the wreck here and went in search for service up the south side of the mountain. He has injuries including one to his head, abdomen, and a previous leg injury from a few weeks ago. Physical description of our vic is: thirty-five year old Caucasian male, approximately five foot five, 150 pounds, small build. Blond hair, green eyes, no tattoos or scars. We’ll follow his trail until it disappears, then I want a line-search going up this side of the mountain. We only have another two hours of daylight. We do this until 8pm, and no later, I don’t want anyone out there past sunset unless you’re essential SAR personnel. We meet back at this point if Dean is still missing, and go from there. Any questions?”

“Did he have any food or water with him?”

“Doubtful. It’s unlikely he thought of that if he thought he wasn’t going to be gone long.”

“Do we know what he was wearing?”

Alex directed his sharp gaze at Richard, who cleared his throat and answered, “Khaki shorts and a white shirt.”

Alex nodded. “Alright team. Take your walk-talkies, make sure they’re full on batteries, and your sat-phones. If you find anything suspicious, or think you’ve found a trail, speak up. We’ve got a chopper in the air performing an aerial search, ATVs patrolling the roads, and the K9 team is also en-route. We need to make noise, make sure he hears us, but you need to make sure you also listen; he could be weak from his injuries and not be able to shout loud enough for you to hear. Ready? Let’s head out.”

____________________

Dean stumbled through the thick underbrush, feet catching on snarled branches and breached tree roots. His vision was blurry at best, and he couldn’t be sure of where he was going or what was happening, barely able to even hold up his own head. Nothing phased him, though; in his trance-like state he kept moving, determined to keep going but not exactly sure where.

There was a moment where he suddenly lost feeling in his legs and his knees buckled, sending him crashing into a tree. With tingling fingers, he gripped the bark until it scratched his skin’s surface, desperate to stay upright. Dean glanced around; the light filtering through the thick canopy danced and swirled, spinning like a Merry-Go-Round. It made his aching head throb even more. He grimaced, his ears suddenly buzzing, engulfed by a swarm of bumblebees.

_What the hell was happening?_

Dean blinked a few times to try to clear his vision, but everything just blurred together even more. He tilted his head back, and then lolled it against the scratchy bark. That made it hurt even worse. He realized by the stickiness at the back of his neck that maybe he was bleeding or maybe it was just the honey from the bees that had made his ears their new hive, but regardless, his lips and fingertips were tingling and in the next moment, he was going down, landing hard on his butt.

“Ugh.”

Dean was hot. Burning. Suffocating from the heat. Weakly, he pawed at his ears, trying to shoo away the incessant bees, but instead his fingers just grasped empty air. He brushed against his forehead, felt the dry, hot skin there. Breathing felt hard – too fast, too hard. Something was wrong – obviously wrong.

_What was wrong?_

“Sick.”

The agony must have heard his thoughts, because it gripped him harder, faster now. He curled, whimpering.

Alone. He was so alone, lost, and sick. It wrapped him tight, throwing him into a spell of dry heaves. Even the pine needles beneath his body mocked him, their sharp edges stinging his bared, sunburnt skin.

He lost time. Finally, Dean raised his head, chin barely lifting from his heaving chest.

There was something on his calf.

He squinted some, and finally the terrible thing came into view – thick abdomen and all eight legs of it. The spider raised its front legs and brandished its fangs, poised for attack.

Dean squealed. Suddenly finding his strength again, he hit the arachnid with everything he had, and then scrambled back against the tree, breathing heavy.

It was gone. Dead. Curled from its cruel death.

Whimpering in relief, Dean closed his eyes. In a brief flash, he remembered weeks back at the Rock and Pillar Range, falling to the earth in an agony of pain. The ceiling of a tent while the weather roared around them. Aidan. Richard. Lex. _Scared_ , all of them. His mom and pop, crying. Waking to a ventilator, and his leg cramped from a painful spider bite and continuous muscle contractions.

His leg throbbed again, this time from the persistent physical exertion spent without his cane. Just barely opening his eyes again, he went to rub it when he saw them.

_Hundreds_ of them running towards him and then up his foot and calf. Up his pant legs, their pointed legs gripped his skin, pinching him to cling and bite and _bury_ in his skin.

Dean screamed. In his blind panic, and scrambled backwards, and when he couldn’t get away fast enough, he swung onto his belly to crawl away as fast as he could. There was an odd pain in his abdomen at that, but he paid no mind, crawling and crawling, crying as they swarmed him.

Sobbing, he managed to flip himself over. The spiders were digging under the gauze at his calf, disappearing beneath the white bandages. With a torn, high-pitched cry, he dug at the bandages, desperate to get them out. When he reached his skin, at least a dozen of them were burrowing deep into his wound, and in panic he clawed at them until all he could see was blood – hands covered in it, he didn’t care, couldn’t think beyond the pure terror.

When he blinked, the spiders were gone. So were the bees in his ears. Everything was peaceful, quiet, except for his weeping and the hard pounding of his heart.

Dean looked around in confusion. Blood dripped from his now-open wound, muscles split raw, skin puckered from torn stitches. His drain was a few feet away, having been ripped from the wound, and blood soaked gauze pooled beneath him. Besides all this, the forest floor was undisturbed, no animal or creature in sight.

He sat there another minute, body lurching with each sob.

He thought everything would have been a little bit easier if only he could understand what was happening and why.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge hug and thank you to: **aninnina, Chris, QueenofAsgard, mosslover, delank_89, ThornyHedge, dsynmi, Mee, Monsters_missus, Silva_13, FiliKiliThorinForever** for taking your time to comment. It's appreciated beyond words.
> 
>  
> 
> LKP - Last Known Position

Richard arrived at Dunedin Hospital in the middle of the night. His exhausted body was soaked from a heavy downpour that had begun at sunset, and he was chilled to the bone from the sudden change in cool temperature. Feeling lost and heavy with despair, he made his way to the nurses’ station, leaving a trail of water behind in his wake.

He had been dropped off to the hospital by a kind police officer. The rangers had only allowed essential SAR personnel and their set medic Charlie Lex to stay past dark in the search for their friend, and though he’d refused treatment from the EMTs, they’d insisted he at least go get rest, and that Lex would be in touch. At first he had protested, his mind only on Dean, but as the night progressed without any sign, he’d finally succumbed to his exhaustion and their insistence.

“Richard? Rich, is that you?”

Richard stopped just short of reaching the nurses’ station and turned to see a familiar redheaded physician approaching him.

“Kate,” he said in weary relief.

Dr. Kate Karras placed a hand on his arm, studying his complexion in concern. “Lex had the EMTs call, they told me you were on your way in. I’m glad I caught you, I heard it’s been a long day.”

He found himself nodding, his mind numb and in shock from all the day’s events.

“Why don’t you come with me and I’ll bring you to Adam?”

They took the elevator, Richard’s legs too unsteady to take the stairs. Dr. Karras’ eyes stayed sharp and steady on him, ready to catch him should he fall. “I want to take a look at you after I bring you over, and don’t even try to refuse. I can see you’re in pain, Richard.”

His voice cracked, saying instead, “How are they?”

She shook her head at his stubbornness. “They’re holding their own. When I bring you to Adam.. I want to warn you, he hasn’t been very responsive to us, but that is very normal after a traumatic event. I have a feeling it will change once he sees that you’re alright.”

The elevator doors slowly opened to reveal a darkened corridor. Lights in the hallway had been dimmed to adjust to the patients’ nighttime schedule. Kate guided him down the hall until they reached a door at the very end of the hallway, and then she opened it to reveal a single bed in a private room. Though it was well past midnight, the lights were still on. Adam was huddled under the covers, facing the muted television, but his eyes glazed over and looking past it.

“Ads?”

Instantly, Adam’s small body jerked and wide eyes found his. His face crumbled in relief and his voice broke, “Rich.”

Finding his feet, he stumbled over and pulled the man into a tight hug. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I feel fine,” he whispered. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me,” he replied immediately. He looked over to Kate, who was smiling in the doorway, clearly happy her patient had begun to respond.

“He’ll be okay,” she reassured Richard. “Some bumps and bruises. He has a few light burns and he’s a little wheezy from the airbag deployment. We’re going to keep him overnight for observation, and he can go home in the morning after he rests and eats breakfast.”

Adam shifted, still holding tight to Richard’s hand. “I’m so glad you’re here. How’s Aidan? Dean?”

Richard physically rocked in place, not quite sure how to update his friend with his fragile state of mind. Thankfully, Kate caught on quickly, and she stepped forward. “Aidan is doing reasonably well. He just got out of surgery and will be in our recovery room for the next few hours.”

“And Dean?” Adam asked. When Richard didn’t respond right away, he sat up straighter in disbelief. “He’s still missing?”

“They’re still searching,” Richard said after a moment. “They aren’t going to give up, they have an idea of the area he must be in.”

“Oh God, I can’t believe this. He’s hurt and out there in this weather!”

“He’ll be okay, Ads. He knows his way around the outdoors, he knows how to survive.”

Richard’s weak reassurances were met by a deep sigh, and Adam sunk in on himself. The exhale drew pressure onto his aching ribs, and when he looked up again at Richard, he took in the man’s appearance, the pain reminding him of something. “You’re hurt.”

“Nothing bad,” he replied. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“You still have blood on your face!”

Richard frowned at his insistence. Though he felt exhausted and had a lingering headache, the last thing he wanted to worry about was himself. Especially with his friends so badly injured, and another still missing. “It’s just a cut, Ads, nothing more.”

“Head wounds tend to bleed a lot, Adam,” Kate explained gently from where she still stood. “But why don’t I steal Richard for a few minutes to check it out and make sure he doesn’t need any stitches? We’ll be right back.”

Adam nodded reluctantly, pulling the blankets a little closer to his chin and watched them leave. The physician pulled Richard into an empty, adjacent room, and took a basin of supplies from the closet. She had him sit on the bed while she donned gloves.

“How’s your head feeling?” She asked him honestly. “Bad headache?”

Richard made brief eye contact with her, and murmured, “It’s not too bad.”

Kate tutted while she pulled off the old gauze and inspected the wound. “There’s no need to play tough guy with me. I can tell when someone is hurting, and you are in pain, Rich.”

He cleared his throat, eyes welling with unexpected tears. It wasn’t the physical pain that bothered him most, but rather the guilt – the overwhelming feeling of grief that he’d been responsible, he’d been at fault for such a horrible accident. Swallowing, he made out, “Just tell me how Aidan really is?”

“Just out of surgery, in recovery like I said. He got lucky we didn’t need to take his spleen,” she said softly while she cleaned his injury. “The CT showed some mild bleeding, so we can just keep a close eye on it. If it continues or worsens, we’ll have to open him up.”

“And his head?”

“I want to be honest with you, it’s not the best. He has what we call an epidural hematoma. When he hit his head, it caused a build up of blood between his skull and the dura mater, which is the membrane just below it. We had to do emergency surgery to evacuate that blood and relieve the pressure it was putting on his brain.”

“God,” his face collapsed as he fought another influx of tears. Kate gently cupped the side of his face, clinically holding him steady while she worked, but her touch was tender, soothing.

“We’ve placed a catheter at that site which will keep an eye on the pressure and make sure things are resolving smoothly,” Kate explained. “We’ll also be able to catch things early on should there be any problems.”

“Is he in any pain?”

Delicately, the physician smoothed antibiotic ointment on his wound and then taped a piece of gauze over it. “None at all. He’s resting comfortably, I can assure you that.”

“Does Adam know?”

“Nothing more than what you heard me say. I need him to rest, he’s in a fragile state of mind right now.”

Richard nodded and watched as she deposited her trash and then smiled at him. “Come on, let me get you back to him. I ordered you a cot and it’s on its way so you can get some sleep, too. You need the rest just as much as he does.”

He followed her out of the room and said honestly, “I don’t know if I can.”

“Listen to me. Lex is going to keep in touch with me regarding Dean. My shift ends at four tomorrow morning, so if anything happens I’ll come find you. I believe he’s coming to get you anyway in the morning, and said you’ll be able to rejoin the search efforts once the sun rises. You’re exhausted. You need to allow your body rest so it can heal.”

Kate handed him a dry and clean pair of scrubs to change into, and when he was changed, he slid into the cot directly next to Adam. The younger man turned on his side, hesitating before slowly threading his arm through the bedrail to clasp his hand. Richard gripped it back, noticing the tremors in the slender fingers.

With the lights now off and the television on mute, he lay there, eyes wide-open despite his body’s desperate plead for rest. His mind was free to run wildly, replaying the accident, the _terrible_ accident that had been solely of his own doing.

Aidan covered in blood, gravely injured. Adam, traumatized. And Dean…

_Somewhere_ in that mountainous forest, within the maze of trees and rocky gorges, was Dean.

Hurt.

Alone.

_If he was even alive_.

Sleep did not come easy.

____________________

The red morning sun broke the horizon just before five AM, and Richard watched it through heavily lidded eyes. Sitting on the sill of Adam’s window, he never broke his trance until the nurse’s assistant pushed open the door, toting a vitals machine cart behind her.

“Morning,” she whispered to him. He nodded in greeting and watched as she gently wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Adam’s arm and clipped an O2 meter onto his index finger. Through her quiet movements, he never woke.

“There’s someone waiting for you at the nurses station,” she said once she finished. “His name is Lex, I believe?”

“Thank you,” he said. Silently, he wrote a note and placed it on Adam’s bedside table. Understanding that he needed all the sleep he could get, he placed a feather-light kiss on his forehead and then changed into the clothes that had been able to dry overnight. He left and shut the door quietly behind him.

Lex was standing at the desk, looking haggard and drenched in wet mud as he sipped from a large coffee mug of what could only be strong coffee. The look on his face told him everything Richard needed to know.

Dean was still gone.

Lex said a quiet greeting and ushered him into the elevator. “How’d you sleep? Did Kate get a chance to look at your head?”

“Yeah. I think I got an hour or two. Did you get any rest?” Richard asked, because Lex looked just as awful as he felt.

“Didn’t have a chance,” the medic shrugged, rubbing the dark circles under his eyes. He continued without any pause. “I just spoke to the charge nurse. Adam won’t be released until after morning rounds today, probably around noontime once they get discharge papers in order. I called Peter and Graham. They’ve already spoken to your friends and they’re all on their way over, so he won’t be alone. I also got ahold of Kate regarding Aidan.. They settled him in the ICU overnight. He’s holding steady.”

Richard let out a staggered breath. “And Dean?”

“We thought we found a trail a few hours ago but it disappeared quickly. The rescue choppers had to stop the search just after you left because of the weather; they’re just getting ready to take off again. My old chief Mike has pulled a few favors and has the whole team of K9 search dogs on their way,” Lex looked at him then, eyes determined. “We’ll find him, Richard. I know we will.”

When they arrived at the crash site an hour later, it was bustling with medical and search personnel. Dogs on long leashes waited for their handlers to begin the hunt, and as their truck came to a stop, one hound was just disappearing into the woods, single-minded and alert.

Donning backpacks full of gear, water bottles, and snack food, they spoke briefly to Alex, who pointed out areas on the map of the mountain that hadn’t yet been searched. Now having their orders, they took off into the woods alongside three other rangers and two K9 dogs.

Hours came and passed, and Richard grew covered in sweat. New Zealand weather was temperamental and unpredictable. Where the night before was wet and cold, it was now hot and growing muggy as the rainwater evaporated from the wet soil.

“Take these,” Lex said and handed him two pain relievers. “And finish that water, I don’t need you getting dehydrated on me.”

“Do you think we’re getting close?” Richard asked after he’d downed the remaining water in his bottle.

“Just about. Looks like we have another kilometer to go then we’ll reach the summit of where they think he got service,” Lex explained. He studied his map alongside his compass, and was just about to give direction, when the hounds suddenly began barking furiously, tails straight like an arrow.

Richard’s eyes snapped in the direction of them, his and Lex’s heartbeats pausing as one, and then they were stumbling to follow as the dogs took off in a run.

“They’ve got a scent!” One of the handlers shouted.

Another ranger was fumbling with his radio as he ran through the bush, jumping bushes and overgrown fawn. “Alex, do you copy? We got a scent. One kilometer southwest of our Last Known Position.”

“Richard you okay?” Lex slowed his pace, noticing that the man wasn’t as quick to follow.

Richard grunted at him, pale and sweaty. “Go! Don’t worry about me,” he said breathlessly.

Instead, Lex grabbed his arm, supporting him as they followed at a slow jog.

Ahead of them, the group of rangers had suddenly ground to a halt, collected in a circle as the search dogs paced anxiously. Their tails were straight up in the air, a sure sign of having found a positive scent. When Richard and Lex finally got to them and saw what they’d gathered around, their hearts stuttered painfully in their chests.

The ground had been visibly disturbed, leaves torn and mud dug into by the heels of shoes. But off to the side at the base of a large oak, they found a long wind of blood-soaked gauze, frayed and tangled. And then a yard away, a familiar grenade-looking drain..

The same drain that had been stitched into Dean’s leg weeks ago.

Richard swayed. “Oh God.”

“Alex, we have a new LKP,” Lex sounded distressed as he called over the radio. “One kilometer southwest of the summit. We’ve found some of Dean’s belongings.”

“Lex! We got a blood trail,” one of the rangers said, then whistled to his dog who took after it down the mountain. “Let’s go, it looks fresh!”

“Alex, be advised, we’re following a large blood trail,” Lex said as he grabbed Richard’s arm and took off after the group. “Send a chopper our way, and as many medics as you can get up here, it’s not looking good!”

__________________

Dean clutched at the bark of the trees as he struggled to stay upright in his descent down the mountain. The task was straining on his overloaded system, and he panted hard, the effort to simply breathe becoming more difficult and took more and more energy.

He’d woken against a tree at some point overnight, drenched and shivering from a downpour, and though he’d been able to get a few mouthfuls of rain water, he was already approaching severe dehydration again as the sun reached full peak and the temperature soared.

_I can’t. I can’t do this anymore._

Dean stumbled, barely catching himself on a tree, and dry heaved. Gagging and coughing, he heaved up absolutely nothing. Tears rolled down his cheeks from the sickness and the pain as his muscles contracted around the shard of glass imbedded in his side. He moaned and whimpered helplessly; in the depths of this awful forest, he was alone and surely dying.

Everything seemed to convene into one at that moment; the woods around him swirled and blurred and deep inside his chest, his heart thudded hard.  It was trying to compensate through a plunging blood pressure due a catastrophic combination of blood loss, heat exhaustion, dehydration, infection, and pure systemic shock. Unable to though, his heart sped up even more, and his vision faded, blackening around the edges. 

A tiny, breathless moan escaped him then, and his knees simply crumpled. His body dropped to the ground, face first, unable to catch himself in his sudden and severe descent as he lost consciousness.

Then inexplicably, a few minutes later, Dean’s eyes fluttered open. He could hardly breathe as his face was half buried in mud and moldy leaves, and so with what little strength he had, he pushed and rolled over. Shaking furiously, his hands weakly grasped at his side where the pain was breathtaking, agonizing. Where a shard of glass used to be protruding, it was no longer there, now fully embedded in his side. He had a brief realization that that was probably why it was so hard to breathe.

Frightened tears flooded his eyes. His heartbeat that was once pounding in his chest was now weakly fluttering, like a butterfly trapped inside his ribcage.

_This is it_.

Eventually, the pain began to ebb as he sunk further into the ground, feeling numb all over.

Blinking slowly, he stared up at the clear blue sky that broke through the canopy. The forest was silent except for birds whistling to each other and the quiet rustling of leaves. Faintly in the distance, he could hear a dog barking, but he believed it to only be his imagination.

His world was still and calm. He was at peace.

Dean had a brief moment of pure clarity then, where he understood that he was dying. For some reason, the thought of death didn’t scare him, though. Instead, he thought only of his family and then of Aidan, how lucky he had been to know him.

He lost consciousness for the last time with his lips pulled in a soft smile.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A _huge_ thank you to: **mosslover, delank_89, ThornyHedge, FiliKiliRp, Mee, dsynmi, Silva_13, monsters_missus, Im_a_huge_fan_of_coffee, Faen, QueenofAsgard, FiliKiliThorinForever, and Destiny101** for such kind comments. After my pup's passing, it has been so hard to get back into the swing of everything. Don't know if the whump bunny is back all the way, but she was able to get out this chapter so.... yeah. Hope it's up to everyone's Hurt/Comfort standards!
> 
> I also feel like I should put a reminder out there that I'm, in no way, a medical professional. Just a girl who likes Google. A lot.

Their run was becoming frantic as they chased after the K9’s. Richard was barely keeping up, panting from exertion and his pounding migraine, and it was only Lex’s steady grip that seemed to keep him from stumbling.

The rangers were calling out Dean’s name every few seconds. It was high noon now and the sun was hot on their backs as they went deeper and deeper through the brush. The sunlight cutting through the canopy was also just enough to glisten off the blood trail that grew steadily thicker the further they got.

“Come on. Dean, you gotta be here somewhere,” Lex fretted as he and Richard dodged a cluster of tangled roots. And then –

“ _Dean_!”

“ _Call Alex_!”

The group in front of them had gained a few dozen yards, and it was their shouts that had Richard’s heart lurching mid-stride. The sound of the yells were unmistakable, and it left him feeling like he’d been suckerpunched in the gut.

Lex pulled on him harder, and he staggered after the medic. It was only once they broke the clearing that they saw him.

Dean.

_No.. Dean.._

His dear friend was lying lifeless, sodden in blood.

Fear forced Richard to a pause a few feet away, stunned at the horrific sight in front of him.

And then time seemed to speed up immeasurably. Like a scene straight from a movie, the rangers tossed aside their gear and swarmed his still body. Lex dove in after them, pushing his fingers hard into Dean’s carotid pulse, face taut, eyes pinpricks. Their huge set medic, who was always calm and composed, looked _terrified_.

“Got a pulse!” He huffed, sounding winded. “That’s it, buddy. That’s it, you stay with us.”

“Alex, we’ve got our vic! Triangulate the coordinates on my sat phone. He’s not looking good, we’re gonna need an extraction team and a Medevac in the area ASAP!” There was a pause as Alex responded, then after a brief ‘ _copy that_ ’, the ranger said to their group, “The extraction team can make it here in ten minutes. We need to get him stabilized for transport.”

“Someone get vitals on this kid!”

“Dean? Come on, Dean, answer me. Open your eyes, bud… He’s unresponsive to painful stimuli.”

One ranger donned gloves and then unwrapped the blood stained t-shirt that had been bound around Dean’s waist. Beneath the oozing, bright red blood was a gaping wound in his right side.

“Shit,” he swore. Meticulously, he examined the puckered flesh, revealing a large slice of glass, edges sharp enough to catch on the rubber of his glove. “Shit, he’s got glass in here.”

“Can you tell how deep?”

A pause as he inspected it, prodding the wound, and then up to Dean’s chest, feeling along the raised skin. “It’s penetrating at an upward trajectory in the right lumbar region. Could have hit his intestines, liver. I can’t tell the size. It’s long though, I bet it hit his lung with the sound of his breathing.”

“God,” Lex breathed. He cupped the side of his friend’s face, the skin there hot and dry. “Dean? C’mon pal, can you hear me? _Dean_?”

A ranger deflated the blood pressure cuff wrapped around his thin arm. “Blood pressure’s 80/55, pulse 130. He’s in shock.”

Another removed the stethoscope from his ears after he’d carefully marched the cold bell from Dean’s shoulders to his lower belly. “Breath sounds are diminished on the right side, and his bowel sounds are absent.”

The other ranger who’d palpated inside the wound, turned to press on all four quadrants of his abdomen, deep enough to feel something was terribly wrong internally. “Yeah, abdomen is rigid and distended. He’s got a bleed in there!”

With his friend so catastrophically injured, Lex felt himself panicking more than he’d ever done before in his many years as a medical professional. The fact remained that Dean should have already been in a hospital days ago with the type of injuries he had, and they were still so far away from getting the help he needed.

“Deluca,” Lex addressed the other medic, eyes pleading. “We’re gonna lose him by the time the crews get here.”

But Danny Deluca shook his head. His expression hardened in something akin to determination, and then he was shouting orders. “Not on my watch. Jake, start an IV, get a bore needle in if you can, leave it wide open, we need to get him fluid resuscitated.”

Jake nodded as he tore through his bag and removed his supplies. Deftly, he guided the needle under Dean’s skin, probing for a vein in his forearm but coming up empty. He swore under his breath after a minute. “Kid’s dehydrated, his veins are collapsed. I can’t find anything.”

“Try his foot,” Deluca growled, “and if not, we’ll get an intraosseous line in his good leg. We need something in; if the glass is plugging a leak and it’s dislodged, we’ll have a massive hemorrhage on our hands.”

Richard had been standing back a few feet away from the scene the entire time. There was little room to wedge in, and so he’d been forced to watch from above. Now swaying from lightheadedness, he collapsed to his knees at Dean’s feet. It took everything he had not to throw up at the sight of his friend, who was teetering so closely on the precipice of life and death. Unclothed to his briefs so they could get to his wounds, his injuries had come into full view, and Richard sagged a little further, locking his jaws in a desperate attempt to keep his nausea down.

“Got a line!” Jake said. “Starting the fluids now.”

“Good, get another if you can. Lex, hand me those compression bandages, we need to wrap his leg. I want him prepped for transport and ready to go for when the team gets here.”

Silently, they worked, their movements sharp and hurried. Deluca had just finished wrapping Dean’s oozing leg wound, when they heard Lex inhale suddenly.

“What?” Deluca asked.

Lex had parted Dean’s dank hair, inspected the skin under the curls. His hands came back bloody and he was whispering, “ _Dammit,_ Dean…”

“ _What_?” The other medic barked.

“Look,” Lex sounded distraught as he gently turned Dean’s head to the left. Dark bruising had formed behind the entire length of his ear. The black and purple ecchymosis on the mastoid process was indicative of a skull fracture and probable underlying brain trauma. On top of everything else he was suffering, Dean’s chances of pulling through worsened by the second.

Deluca’s face fell. There was a moment of silence before he carried on, but his voice held a strange tone to it. “You get the second line in yet, Jake?”

The ranger nodded.

“Good. Let’s get him wrapped up in the thermal blankets while we wait for the other team to get here. They should be here any minute.”

Just before they wrapped the blond, Deluca covered his abdominal injury with an abdominal pad, taping it gently to the skin around it. He wanted the wound covered, but didn’t dare put any pressure on it, for fear that it could drive the glass deeper.

The search and rescue dogs had been anxiously pacing since they’d found their victim, but it was their sharp bark that alerted everyone that the others had finally arrived. Four field paramedics jogged into view, carrying with them bags, a backboard and a large stokes basket. Everyone except Richard and Lex, who remained stoically at Dean’s head, backed away to give them room.

“He’s wrapped and ready to go,” Deluca said immediately. He knew Dean was barely clinging to life, and that they had little time.

The medics nodded and placed the backboard directly next to Dean.

Lex leaned close and whispered in his ear. “Alright bud, we’re going to move you in a second. You’re getting a free ride outta here, so you don’t have to worry about anything except holding on, got it?”

“Want to give us an update while we get him loaded?”

“He’s our vic that went missing from the car crash. Multiple injuries including head trauma, a penetrating abdominal wound with a glass shard still in place, and an old leg wound which we’ve wrapped in compression bandages,” Deluca answered. On the medics cue, he and Lex helped to turn Dean onto his side so they could slide the board under him, then put him back down. “We got two lines in his foot, they were the only veins accessible,” he then nodded to the O2 machine clipped to Dean’s finger. “Oxygen’s been hovering in the low nineties. He’s hypotensive and tachycardic.”

“Has he been responsive?”

“Not at all.”

In seconds, they had belted Dean to the board at his head, chest, pelvis, and legs, careful to avoid the worst of his injuries. Before Richard could even comprehend what was going on, they’d transferred the backboard into the stokes basket, and were shouting, “Let’s move!"

Lex hauled him up, keeping a steady grip on his arm, and then they were jogging after the others.

____________________

Marie walked into the furthest ICU room, having had gathered a basin of supplies to get her latest patient settled from the recovery room. Aidan Turner had just been carefully transferred to the bed by a group of registered nurses, and after his lines and monitors were carefully checked and his vital signs recorded, they’d left to care for their other patients.

As a young certified nurses assistant, Marie’s role was to make sure her patients were comfortable, clean, were turned to prevent bedsores, and exercised to keep muscles from atrophying. She also was taught to keep an eye out for deteriorating physical and mental conditions, which was why after a quick sponge bath and change of top sheet, she paused.

Beneath the oxygen mask, Aidan’s breath had hitched.

Marie frowned. The young man was still being kept under a strict protocol of narcotics for pain management, and shouldn’t have been feeling any pain from his injuries.

She would have dismissed the tiny sound, but he had suddenly taken on a pale, sweaty look. She backed away to the door just as the telemetry monitor started shrieking.

“ _Nurse_! I need a nurse in here!” Marie shouted out the door.

“What’s going on?” Having heard the alarm at the nurses’ station, Tucker, their charge nurse, had already rushed towards the room, and was followed by two other nurses who were just a few steps behind.

“I was just changing his bedding when he started breathing funny.”

Tucker’s dark eyes snapped to the monitor above his patient’s bed; the numbers were flashing in warning, its alarm shrill in the small room.

“Call for a code white!” He yelled. “Where’s his assigned nurse?”

“Here!” An older woman barged into the room, pale and out of breath.

“Annie, what’s your patient’s diagnosis?” Tucker demanded and practically ripped off Aidan’s gown to get access to his chest and abdomen.

“Head trauma, grade two splenic injury, and a dislocated shoulder. Aidan? Sweetheart, can you hear me?” Annie knuckled his sternum aggressively, yet her patient failed to rouse. Commotion came from the hallway just then, and suddenly the room was full of physicians and surgical residents.

“Pulse is 120 and climbing.”

“What’s his blood pressure?”

“Seventy over forty!”

“It’s gotta be his spleen,” Annie said, and she palpated the left upper quadrant of his abdomen. It was grossly swollen. “God, he’s bleeding out!”

“He’s becoming apneic, get the crash cart!”

“Aidan, honey, don’t you do this.”

“BP fifty palp!”

“Call the blood bank, get 10 units of A neg ready for OR 2! And get his fluids wide open!”

“No pulse!”

“Tucker, get on top of him, start compressions! We gotta move, let’s get him to the theater!”

“ _Stay with me, Aidan!_ ”

____________________

Fifteen minutes into their run down the mountain, the paramedics carrying Dean suddenly came to full stop. Richard and Lex, drenched in sweat and heaving for breath, had only just caught up the few remaining feet to the group, when they had dropped Dean to the ground and were tearing off the emergency blankets.

Lex pushed his way in while Richard stood above, gray in shock. The monitor attached to Dean’s finger was whining in alarm.

“O2 sat is eighty and falling!”

“ _Fuck_ , he’s in respiratory distress,” the medic shouted and pulled out his stethoscope. He held the bell to Dean’s weakly heaving chest. “I’m hearing free air and fluid.”

“How far are we from the Medevac?” Lex demanded.

“Another fifteen, twenty minutes if we haul it. It’s the closest they can get.”

“He’s not going to make that time!”

Beneath them, Dean’s breathing stuttered. His cyanotic lips feebly gaped open, desperate to suck in air, but it was as if there was no room to pull it in. The O2 monitor shrilled again in alarm as his oxygenation dropped below seventy, and then he simply went limp.

“He’s not breathing!”

“No no no, Dean, don’t do this. C’mon, Dean,” Lex pleaded.

“Get me the med kit, we need to intubate!”

“Heart rate’s forty – _shit_ , it’s gone. No pulse!”

Deluca tore into his med kit and shouted to the other medic, “Start compressions.”

“ _Compressions?_ ” One of the baby-faced rangers asked. “He’s got glass penetrating into his chest and you want to do compressions?”

Lex shoved aside the ranger and poised himself over Dean’s bare chest. In the next moment, he was pounding against his ribcage.

Richard stumbled, and then his knees gave out, hitting the dirt hard.

“We’re gonna have to cut him. Do you have anything in that kit to make a chest tube?”

“Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.. Staying,” Lex grunted out to the medic who was prepared to take over after he’d finished a round of compressions. The paramedic at Dean’s head breathed twice into the mask covering his mouth, the one-way valve preventing any air escape. Dean's chest barely rose from the effort, and then Lex was pounding into his chest again.

“One, two, three, four…”

Richard tried to crawl closer, but he was held back by strong, clinical hands. A kind voice said to him, “Stay here, they’ve got him.”

“Don’t do this,” Lex said in between his own pants. “Don’t you dare, Dean.”

“Radio the Medevac. Tell them what’s happened,” Deluca demanded. “Jake, help me get him tubed!”

In shock, Richard watched as his friend’s belly seesawed with each hard compression, pale skin flaccid over a much-too thin abdomen. Anxious shouts echoed between the medics, only interrupted by the popping of Dean’s cartilage as Lex pushed down with everything he had.

“Jesus,” he choked. “Don’t do this.. Come on.. Please.. _Dean_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments feed the whump bunny.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry for the long wait on this one and _A to Z_! For this chapter, I’ve been having a hard time getting the medical aspects accurate. As some of you know, I'm not trained in medicine, but because it’s my favorite kind of story to read (and write), I've become a bit obsessive trying to make it as real as possible. Admittedly, I may have jumped in a little too deep with this story. Those without medical knowledge probably won't be able to tell, but I'm sure others are wincing! Any medical inaccuracies are my own. Textbooks scenarios and medical journals can only go so far without real life experience.
> 
>  _A to Z_ is giving me grief, too. I’m becoming worried that each chapter is repetitive (I guess that's what you get when you decide to write 24 different chapters on the same topic - whump!). I have up to chapter “M” drafted now, but each time I look at what’s written, I don’t like it. I'm sure you other authors have been there, done that. And I'm sure it's just going to come down to me chugging a big glass of wine and hitting the "post" button.
> 
> Anyway. Enough with this depressive spewing.
> 
> I want to thank you all again for such kind comments. Can't tell you enough how much I appreciate each and every one of them. Without your encouragement, I'd have given up a long time ago. So thank you to: **ThornyHedge, FiliKiliRp, Destiny101, Silva_13, Monsters_missus, Filigirl237, QueenofAsgard, Mee, dsynmi, dealing_89, mosslover, Faen, FiliKiliThorinForever, and nuu**.
> 
>  

“Radio the Medevac. Tell them what’s happened, they need to be prepared!” Deluca demanded.

Richard watched in shock as his friend’s belly seesawed with each hard compression, pale skin flaccid over a much-too thin abdomen. Anxious shouts echoed between the medics, only interrupted by the popping of Dean’s cartilage as Lex pushed down with everything he had.

“Jesus,” he choked. “Don’t do this.. Come on.. Please.. _Dean_!”

“There’s a lot of resistance, it’s getting hard to push air in,” a medic stated as he pushed another breath into the one-way valve mask.

Another ranger had his fingers digging into Dean’s carotid pulse. “He’s got really poor output with compressions.”

Danny Deluca huffed. With quick hands, the practiced medic skimmed his fingertips along Dean’s ribcage, working around Lex who continued with his frantic compressions. The skin there was raised and bumpy, like Rice Krispies beneath his flesh, confirming crepitus, or subcutaneous air, trapped there. With a hard sigh, he only took a few additional seconds to then feel along either side of his patient’s trachea. At the sternal notch, the trachea deviated noticeably to the left, away from the side of the imbedded glass. Years of working in extreme circumstances as both a ranger and, many years ago as a combat medic, told him exactly what was happening.

“ _Dammit_.”

Dean had all the classic signs of a tension pneumothorax, and they needed to move fast if he had any chance of surviving.

“Get a 16 gauge angiocath and draw up some saline. I’ll need ABD pads, and tape too.” He donned new gloves. “Lex, when I tell you to, stop compressions. Got it?”

Deluca held the other man’s gaze for just a second. In the quick exchange, they both seemed to acknowledge that things were about to get very real, very fast. And under their surges of adrenaline, there was a brief moment of mutual respect; that though neither had known each other longer than an hour, they were pouring themselves so thoroughly and completely into saving the life of the man below them.

Lex then nodded tautly, sweat dripping from his brow.

A ranger passed Deluca what he’d requested. Without any supplies for asepsis, he immediately located Dean’s third rib and punctured just above it with the angiocath, being careful to avoid the areas of major vessels. He advanced the needle a few inches, pushing hard because the chest wall was thick with air, and he had to reach Dean’s pleural cavity – _fast_.

“C’mon,” he muttered, watching the saline in the syringe intently.

And then, he finally felt a sudden ‘give’ and the plunger of the needle released. Air bubbled through the saline, indicating he’d hit the pocket trapped inside, and Deluca smiled tightly.

“I’m in. Someone hand me the ABD pads and tape.”

He pulled the needle out of the syringe, handing it off to one of the rangers who deposited it safely in a container, and then another medic was helping him secure the catheter securely in place.

“His cardiac output is better,” a ranger announced as he felt the pulse in Dean’s neck.

“Good,” Deluca sighed, happy with the small victory. “Keep up the compressions a little longer, Lex, then we’ll reassess.”

Lex offered no response, instead only staring at his dear friend below him, who was grey in color and continued to rock with each hard thrust to his chest. He was beginning to tire; CPR was physically grueling, and though he considered himself to be the most fit he’d ever been, his adrenaline was beginning to fade, and he was left continuing out of sheer will. The bones in his hand were crushed between its opposite hand and the hard sternum below. As he continued, he felt a few of Dean’s ribs give way, snapping from the pressure.

Lex moaned at the feeling but he couldn’t stop, and he desperately willed Dean’s heart to beat.

“You still okay Lex?”

He grunted, offering a single nod.

Knowing he didn’t have the proper seals to finish off the needle decompression, Deluca ripped off the finger of his glove and taped the rubber over the needle hub. It acted like a flutter valve, allowing the trapped air out but nothing back inside.

“Looks good.”

“Alright, Lex, hold it. Let’s see if our boy decided to fight.”

The set medic backed away, collapsing onto his haunches and despite his overwhelming exhaustion, his eyes never left Dean.

Deluca’s fingers dug into his patient’s carotid, pushing hard because with his substantial blood loss, the pulse would be difficult to palpate. Their efforts were rewarded, and he grinned at the feeling of a thready _thumpthumpthump_ beneath his fingertips. The procedure had allowed Dean’s damaged lung to re-expand; it was no longer constricted, and blood was able to return un-impaired to his already stressed heart.

“He’s back!”

Another medic removed his stethoscope. “Breath sounds are better!”

Lex literally deflated. Weary eyes glanced over to Richard, who had collapsed on the ground. Another ranger was supporting him upright, a white-knuckled grip on his shoulder, as they both looked on in desperation.

“Let’s go, this is only gonna work for so long,” one of the medics said.

“Yeah, we’re gonna need to suction him as soon as we’re back in the chopper.”

Lex found his purpose again, and then he was scrambling to pack up the strewn equipment as they others got in position to lift Dean’s litter.

“He’s also gonna need a chest tube in the ER,” Deluca said. “Maybe even in the Medevac, I don’t think this will last all the way to Dunedin.”

“You got him? Everyone in position?”

“Let’s go! We need to scoop and run.”

The four paramedics lifted simultaneously, and then they took off at a steady clip.

“Richard?” Lex breathed.

“Go, I got him!” The ranger helped to lift the man to his feet, who stumbled, and then corrected his balance.

Richard looked up at him, devastated, and nodded solemnly. “Go.”

____________________

“Alright, I’ve mobilized the spleen,” the surgeon reported. “God, this kid’s a bleeder. I need some suction here, we need to find the hemorrhage.”

“He’s losing pressure.”

“Can we hang another bag of FFP, please?”

“What’s his BP?”

“90/55.”

“Push an amp of atropine.”

“Come on, kid… Come on, I can’t see past all this blood.”

“Think we can salvage it?”

“Possibly. I need metz and lap pads. Suction!”

“Got it.”

“There we go, Aidan. What’s his pressure now?”

“97/60 and rising. Heart rate is stabilizing, 90bpm.”

“I think we got the bleeder. Everything else is looking good. Great job, everyone. Let’s get his abdomen closed and get him back in recovery.”

Then, the sound of a small vibration filled the room.

“Uh, doctor? Doctor Kerras is paging you again. Sounds urgent, she’d like an update on her patient.”

“Go ahead and call her, tell her Mr. Turner is stable,” and then he sighed more to himself, looking up to one of the surgical residents. “You ever meet a doctor so insistent than her?”

____________________

Adam sat motionless on the hospital bed, legs dangling over the side, toes just barely glancing the cold linoleum. In front of him, his day nurse held a stack of papers in her hands. She carefully explained his discharge instructions, but it barely registered, words more of a white noise than anything. He’d been silent all morning, body taut and slightly trembling. As the reality of what had happened finally settled, he just didn’t have any words to say, muted in his shock.

His eyes slowly glazed over from where they’d been staring at the papers, and then traced over to the bedside table where a letter sat, wrinkled from being held so much.

The nurse seemed to understand where his mind was, and she smiled sympathetically. “Is your friend coming back, hon? You’ll need a ride home so you can get some real rest.”

Adam swallowed around a painfully tight throat. “I, uh.. I’m not sure.”

Richard had left at some point while he was sleeping, leaving a note that he’d be back, but that was hours ago. Besides him, Adam had no one. His family was on the other side of the world, and his two closest friends –

 _His two closest friends_. One was in critical condition in the ICU, condition unknown because everyone refused to tell him more.

And the other?

The one person strong enough to find them help was still out there, injured from the crash and _missing_ , undoubtedly terrified to no end because that mountain was _huge_ and civilization was too many kilometers away to count. And now, after a long night of dangerous weather conditions and falling temperatures, who knew what condition he was in.

If he would even be found.

Adam was alone no matter what way he thought about it.

The nurse patted his shoulder. “I’ll go grab you some scrubs to change into while you wait for someone to pick you up. Stay right here.”

When she left, the room became achingly silent once more.

Adam scooted so he was sitting in the middle of the bed and drew his knees to his chest. He wasn’t aware of the dull pain along his bruised ribs and pelvis, or the burns along his chest, and to be honest, he wouldn’t have cared if he strained his injuries even more.

He was so trapped in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the door swing open.

“Ads?”

Adam’s head snapped up and for a second, all he could do was stare dumbly at the two men in the doorway.

“James? Graham?” He breathed out weakly.

“Oh, laddie,” James murmured.

The smaller man found himself suddenly enveloped in a tight embrace by two of his closest friends. Bright eyes pinched shut, and then he was weeping in between heaving, stuttering breaths.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments feed the whump bunny.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of medical talk in this chapter. As always, a reminder that I’m not a medical professional. Not entirely sure how accurate this is, but I tried to research to the best of my ability.
> 
> And a HUGE thank you to: **QueenOfAsgard, FiliKiliRp, itsthebooks, Silva_13, Monsters_missus, FiliKiliThorinForever, lenore_writing, Inkystar, delank_89, mosslover, and nuu** for all your feedback. And a special thank you to **ThornyHedge and Mee** for the continued check-ins. Very sorry for the long wait, but your interest really got my butt back in gear. :o)

Richard’s stomach churned as the Medevac tilted and lifted upwards even further, and it was all he could do to not succumb to the overwhelming nausea he felt. Time had slowed down significantly during the twenty-minute ride to the hospital, stretching out, pushing him beyond his physical and mental limits. Sitting buckled in the corner, Richard was nearly vibrating in emotional shock as he stared unblinking at the litter in front of him. On it, his best friend was fighting for life with every fibre of his being.

In between the steady _whump whump whump_ of the chopper blades, Richard clung doggedly onto each word spoken by the medics over his headset, begging that he’d hear _something_ reassuring. _Something_ to confirm that his friend would to be all right.

“Lex, get him on a non-rebreather mask, 15 liters. It’s in the corner right there.”

Doctor Jeffrey Rega had been the flight surgeon on call at the time of dispatch. After a half hour flight to Mount Cook, they’d touched ground on a part of land closest to the rescue team. Though he’d been initially briefed on his victim’s injuries, it couldn’t have prepared him for the amount of trauma that was carried through the chopper doors.

Decades of education and experience taught him to always expect the worse.

And clearly, Dean was no exception to that rule.

It was because of this that Dr. Rega counted his blessings – and silently thanked he had a competent team working with him. At the head of the stretcher, Charlie Lex was tightening the green straps of the oxygen mask to his patient. Across from him, Danny Deluca had torn the thermal blankets away from their victim and hastily placed sticky electrodes onto his chest for the EKG monitor, before cutting away his underwear.

Although they’d never met before, after quick introductions, the entire team began working together like a well-oiled machine. They knew what needed to be done in order to keep their patient alive.

“Deluca, get a full set of vitals on him while I start an assessment.”

Now completely unclothed, Dr. Rega could perform a thorough head to toe examination. They still had another fifteen minutes of flight time, and during that, they needed to do everything in their power to get him evaluated, stabilized, and ready for arrival to the ER.

Rega started at Dean’s head. Though there was no blood in his ears or his nose, his pupils were slightly unequal under the light of his pen torch, and there was dark purple bruising behind his ear. It suggested a brain injury, though a quick glance up to Lex who nodded tersely, suggested the medic was already aware.

“Dean, can you hear me?” He spoke loudly enough so that if his patient was awake, he could’ve heard him over the sound of the chopper. “Open your eyes, Dean.”

But he stayed still and unresponsive, so Rega continued to lightly palpate the blond’s skull and face, finding no fractures or depressions, and then moved down to his neck and chest. Several ribs shifted under his touch, and beneath the pads of his fingers, he could feel trapped air just beneath the skin’s surface. The majority of that trauma would have been from the chest compressions he’d been informed about, and would have to be taken care of in the ER. He moved down, peeling back the abdominal pad to reveal a grossly large, open wound. He could just see the edge of glass that had wedged its way up into Dean’s chest cavity. It had torn through layers of skin, fat, muscle… and based on its location, possibly transected bowel, liver, diaphragm, and lung. It was another injury that he could do nothing for, not here in the Medevac, so he taped the ABD pad back in place, and continued with his palpations. Dean’s abdomen was rigid, a classic sign of internal bleeding. Pelvis stable. Arms and legs without fractures, but upon lifting the pressure bandages at his calf, he winced. Another deep wound, although this one was clearly infected. Foul green pus leaked from the sides, and the skin around it was red and heated. Muscle looked torn, shredded, and he could see the white of bone.

Rega shook his head in clear astonishment. It was a miracle his patient was still alive – he’d seen people die with less injuries than this, and yet, the steady but quick heartbeat pulsed on, echoing lightly from the EKG monitor.

“Alright, blood pressure is low, 80/55. Pulse thready at 110. Resps 30, temperature 103.3,” Deluca reported.

“He’s in shock,” Dr. Rega muttered. A combination of blood loss, exposure to the elements, infection, and dehydration had all compounded to deteriorate his patient’s status. And now Dean was riding a fine line between his decision to push more fluids or not. The fact remained that Dean was extremely critical; he was actively hemorrhaging and was hypotensive, but if he chose to push more fluids, there was a chance they'd disrupt any clots that had formed naturally. On the other hand, if Dean continued on his downward spiral, he wouldn't live through their rapid transport to the trauma center.

After a moment of thought, Rega instead chose to stay on the safe side. "Keep his lines open as they are, we'll push more fluids if his systolic pressure falls anywhere below 80."

“Got it… Shit, one’s blown,” Deluca cursed as he inspected the catheter site. Dean’s feet had turned white as he continued to shut down in shock, and as the blood left his peripheral limbs to return to his core. It was his body’s physiological attempt at keeping his organs warm and functioning.

“You couldn’t get anything in his arms?”

“Nothing, all his veins were shut down,” Lex answered. “We could only manage the two in his feet.”

“Alright.. Deluca, get an intraosseous line going, right tibia, the injection gun is in that drawer there,” Rega said, pointing to his left. “I want to avoid anything in the chest for obvious reasons.. We need to have more IV access in case he crashes. Lex, grab a Foley kit and get it inserted. I’m going to get him suctioned, he’s sounding wet.”

From his corner, Richard sat doe-eyed, curling in on himself as the medics poured everything they had over Dean’s unconscious body. The sight made him sick. He had a close up, stark view of the blond’s bare, ashen body. He hadn’t realized how much weight he’d lost since his spider bite, and now he truly understood Aidan’s initial concern; ribs and hipbones stuck out prominently. Knees pointy, stomach concaved. He had to turn away for a few moments, turning green with nausea, when Deluca took a spring-loaded IV gun to Dean’s shin, setting a line straight into the bone.

Breathing hard through his nose, he quickly wiped the sweat from his forehead, dizzy. He was barely holding on himself, when he was addressed directly through his headset.

“Rich, you hanging in there?” Lex’s voice filtered through the fog, and he slowly turned to look dazedly over at him. Taking just a second to look at the urinary catheter that had been placed and taped to Dean’s inner thigh, he nodded, throat too tight to speak. “Good. You tell me if you need some help, got it?”

Too anxious to speak, afraid of the sound that might come out, he nodded again.

“Line’s in!” Deluca confirmed. Immediately, he connected the tubing to a bag of lactated Ringers – a solution of electrolytes that Dean’s dehydrated body badly needed.

“How’s his urine looking?” Rega asked as he took out his stethoscope to auscultate his patient’s breath sounds.

“Twenty mils on insertion, nothing since. He’s hematuric.”

Rega glanced up sharply to meet Lex’s eyes. The implications of such little urine – and _bloody_ urine – on top of everything else spelled disaster. He puffed out loudly through his nose, clearly frustrated. “Dammit.”

“I’ll get another vitals check,” Deluca said.

“What’s our ETA?” Rega demanded of the pilot.

“Seven minutes out! The team is prepped and ready for arrival.”

“Push it faster if you can.”

“Whoa, whoa, hey there, buddy,” the tone in Lex’s voice had changed to one of soothing. It caused everyone in the cabin to whip around to see what had happened.

Even from his position in the corner, Richard could see Dean’s lashes flutter against his cheeks. Then, they opened just slightly, half-mast, but enough to see pale green orbs peek upwards.

“Well, look who’s awake,” even Dr. Rega seemed surprised. He dropped his stethoscope and moved into Dean’s line of sight. “Hey there, Dean. Can you hear me?”

“Easy, buddy,” Lex could sense his growing distress. Grabbing a spare headset, he placed it over his ears so he could hear them clearly. Dean’s eyes glanced around the cabin walls and ceiling, finally settling on the set medic. But even after finding his presence, his breaths sped up, and he began to twitch agitatedly on the stretcher, not strong enough to fully draw up his limbs. Lex gently passed a hand over his forehead and through his hair, soothing him.

Rega hummed in frank displeasure. It had seemed the fluids and pure oxygen had boosted his blood pressure, allowing enough profusion for Dean’s return to consciousness, but the added shock Dean was currently going through was not healthy, especially for his already stressed system. “We need to keep him calm.”

“Hey, Dean, look at me _. Look at me_ ,” Lex said, moving directly into Dean’s eyesight. The blond whined, the sound torn in pain, muffled by the oxygen mask, but loud enough for them to hear. “I need you to stay calm right now. Do you understand? Do you know where you are?”

At Dean’s silence, Rega leaned in closer, trying to gauge his orientation. “Hey, pal. Look over here. Good. What’s your name? Tell me what your name is.”

“D’n,” the one syllable was enough to send him into a coughing fit. Dean tried to curl in on himself, and when he couldn’t do that, he squeezed his eyes shut, tears leaking unchecked through his lashes.

“Lex, can you suction?”

Blood had now splattered the inside of the oxygen mask, and with each heaving breath, they could hear gurgles. Lex immediately took aside the mask and pushed a thin tube into Dean’s mouth. The second it hit the back of his throat, bloody mucous was vacuumed away and to a biohazard receptacle.

“There, that will help. Steady breaths, buddy.”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, forehead pinching, and then they reopened. Lex could physically feel a weight settle on his chest, and it scared him to think about the fear and pain Dean must be going through to look up at him in such a way.

“Richard,” Lex found his voice. “Do you want to come up here and talk to him?”

The man in the corner nodded mutely and stumbled over. He fell to his knees beside Lex, immediately finding the blond’s gaze.

“Rrrr… ch?” Dean looked to still be making small mental adjustments. At the sight of his friend, he blinked slowly, squinting as if he wasn’t sure he was seeing correctly. His hands curled, fingers twisting into sheet and backboard below him, and then with the little energy he could muster, they searched until they connected with the metal framing of his stretcher. Eyes slipping past the two faces in front of his, he found the blurry outline of the Medevac ceiling. The sudden unfamiliar surroundings exacerbated his anxiety and pain, and his breathing stuttered anew.

“Hey,” Richard stuffed down his own anxiety, remembering that this was Dean’s first return to consciousness since being lost on the mountain, and fought to get his friend’s attention back. “Look at me. That’s it, Deano. Right here.”

“Whha'?” Dean wheezed. He swallowed thickly around a much-too-dry tongue, and unable to properly think or control his rising sense of panic, he whined beneath the mask. 

“Deano, you’re okay. We’re on our way home,” Richard said. Without any sort of response, he was unexpectedly taken aback by the look of fright in Dean’s eyes.

“We’re on our way home,” he repeated, grabbing Dean’s curled fingers, needing the physical contact as much himself. “You did it, Dean, you found service on the mountain and you called for help. Everyone is safe because of you; we’re all okay. Aidan and Adam are at the hospital now, waiting for you,” he deliberately left out the part about their injuries, and waited only a moment for his words to sink in through Dean’s confusion. “Aidan and Adam are safe, sweetheart. Do you understand?”

Tears gathered in the corner of the green eyes, and suddenly Dean’s breath was coming in weird, breathy grunts from beneath the mask.

“Hey, hey, now,” Richard soothed. He looked up anxiously at the set medic.

Lex’s face was heavily lined in concern, and he smoothed back Dean’s unruly hair. “Easy, Dean.”

“He’s in pain,” Richard whispered. “Can’t you give him anything?”

Rega sighed unhappily. It was becoming more obvious as time passed that his patient needed pain management, however his vitals were flagging. Considering Dean’s head injury and already depressed respiratory status, he chose to start with a very low dose of pain relief, and then adjust from there. “Let’s get 25mcg of Fentanyl on board. Slow infusion and monitor his vitals closely, please.”

Squeezing Dean’s hand, Richard could feel his ongoing shudders of pain and frightful confusion. He rubbed his thumb firmly in his grasp, unsettled by the fact that Dean had fallen quiet and eyes had fallen to just barely open. “You’re going to be fine, sweetheart. Relax, you’ll be feeling better soon, I promise.”

Desperate now, Richard was saying those things for himself, too. It was a hard and painful reality that there was nothing more he could do for his friend than continue his whispered reassurances. That although Dean had finally been found and rescued, it was entirely possible that he still would not survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments feed the whump bunny.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lateness of this chapter. I have no real excuses except I had a few bad weeks in Real Life. Hoping to get back in the swing of things now! THANK YOU to my commenters .. Your continued feedback is my motivation. **Mee, ThornyHedge, mosslover, Silva_13, FiliKiliRp, FiliKiliThorinForever, nuu, monsters_missus, dsynmi, Tillie231, Lo, and islandkate** thank you!

By the time Dr. Kate Kerras got to the ER, there was what could only be described as barely-controlled chaos in the pit.

“Over here, Kerras!” One of her fellow physicians shouted from the door of trauma room two. She stormed in and donned a gown and gloves.

“How is he?” She demanded, eyes immediately studying the fully bared patient in the center of the room.

Dean must have just arrived because nurses were still hooking him up to monitors and a medic was moving the bloody stretcher out of the room. A tall man dressed in flight gear, whom she knew must have been on the ride over, was addressing the staff and helping to hang bags of IV fluids to the pole.

“Thirty-five year old male involved in a MVC where it rolled into a gulley two days ago. He’s been lost on the mountain ever since. Head injury and penetrating abdominal trauma, with glass still in situ. Pneumothorax with presumed hemothorax – he was in respiratory distress in the field. We lost his pulse for approximately two minutes but it was gained back after performing compressions and a needle thoracostomy.”

“Vitals?”

“BP is low, 77/50. Pulse is thready at 130. Patient’s O2 sats are in the eighties and falling, and he's got a high core temp despite the shock.”

Kate swore, pushing her way through the mayhem to her patient. It took only seconds to don her stethoscope and place the bell to Dean’s weakly heaving chest. She shook her head at the sounds she heard inside; he was breathing like he had COPD. “Get a CBC, chem 7, U/A, and coags. Type and crossmatch, call the blood bank for four bags of O neg … Damn, breath sounds are shit.. we’ve got tracheal deviation. Get him intubated while I prep for a chest tube!”

The nurses worked in tandem, each set with a specific goal of taking blood, replacing blood, or pumping in vasoconstrictors to limit the flow of it; others continued with quick cursory assessments of their flagging patient, touching him, working around him as he continued his downward spiral. “Come on, Dean. Don’t do this. Don’t do this.. Gerry, grab his arm, hold it tight.”

An older nurse took Dean’s small arm at the elbow, bending it up and back above his head. He used both hands to hold it in place, at wrist and bicep, grip sturdy, bracing for a fight, because he knew from experience the agony of this procedure alone. The nurse nodded at Kerras when he was ready, and then she moved. Lathering surgical scrub in quick movements, she rushed to clean him; a second later, skin prepped and ready, she made her first slice with the scalpel.

There was a weak twitch, but all strength seemed to have fled his body along with the massive amount of blood on the stretcher and floor. For a second, Dean’s eyes peaked open, void of recognition as he lingered in a nightmarish state of semi-consciousness. The skin on his forehead pinched and his lips convulsed around the ventilator tubing that had been threaded between them only seconds before; Kate couldn’t begin to imagine the pain her patient was experiencing.

“Don't fight me, pal, I know this hurts. Hang with me. Martinez, get a splash block in here now!”

Between her bloody hands, someone slipped in, delivering a healthy dose of anesthetic into the new wound. Above their heads, an alarm began to sound in succession to his weakening vital signs.

“Good. Hand me the tube. Hurry, sats are seventy, he’s gonna die if we don't get it in!”

There was a quick, hard push as the chest tube was shoved into his pleural cavity. Immediately, a hiss of air was heard as it left his damaged chest, followed by a flood of bright red blood. “Line’s in. Okay, okay.. Got it. Good job.”

A few seconds later, a nurse asserted, "O2's climbing!"

Having survived a pneumothorax, Kerras allowed the tiniest bit of tension to release from her shoulders. Immediate crisis averted, she could now continue her examination before carting him off to the OR - because after all, he still had a large piece of glass embedded within him, internal damage still unknown.

“Sweetie, hang on for me. Focus on my voice, you’re doing so well, Dean,” she coached him, moving to the side to allow a nurse room to secure the tube into place. As she spoke, she took an ultrasound probe that was thrusted into her hand, keeping up her soothing tone as she continued her assessment. “You’ve got a chest tube in now, that’s going to relieve a lot of the pressure you’re feeling in your chest. We’ve also placed you on a ventilator so you don’t have to work so hard.”

Glancing upward, she caught the very moment his eyes fluttered shut. Just as quickly as he’d gained consciousness, he lost it again.

“He’s out. How’s his vitals doing?” She dumped cold jelly onto the tip of the probe and pushed it onto Dean’s abdomen, pointedly ignoring his black and blue and disfigured chest – patterns explicitly caused by chest compressions.

“Tachy, getting worse.”

“ _Shit_ ,” she moaned in distress at the sight on the ultrasound monitor and the amount of free blood in his abdominal cavity. “ _Dammit, Dean_. It’s his liver. Let’s flip him, get a rectal.”

With quick precision, the team lined up to turn their patient in a steady logroll. Many hands lined his body, keeping him in position as a nurse grabbed an extra glove and performed a digital rectal exam. In the trauma room, this was the easiest and quickest way to detect signs of spinal injuries if there was a loss of sphincter tone, and also intestinal injuries. The exam itself was over in a second, and when the nurse pulled back, his finger was coated in frank blood.

“Positive rectal. Bowel is definitely involved from that glass.”

The team was quick to get him lying flat again, and then they were looking to their lead physician. Her eyes were skidding across Dean’s bared body, taking in every disfigured, bruised, and lacerated area; his color was fading as he continued to bleed both externally and from the inside. Finally, her gaze came to rest on his previously injured leg; it was grossly swollen and red with infection, looking like it had been dug down to the bone. She shook her head at the growing number of injuries she still had to manage. “Alright, he’s got an acute abdomen so let’s get him down to the OR. Page vascular and neuro, have them meet us downstairs. We can deal with that leg and his head injury once he’s stabilized.”

With no time for radiology or further testing, they wheeled him straight into surgery.

____________________

“Richard, take a deep breath for me.”

Richard slowly blinked away the darkness at the edges of his vision when a deep, gentle voice cut through the trance he’d seemed to slip into. Feeling lethargic and abruptly lightheaded, he glanced to his left and saw a balding doctor bent over him. He finally connected the dots as a tight pressure suddenly released from his bicep; the man was taking his blood pressure.

“Huh?” He rasped. He went to scrub at his heavy eyes and frowned at seeing an IV catheter stuck into the back of his hand. Ever since his arrival to the hospital with Dean, things had seemed blurred. In fact, he couldn’t remember much after running through the corridors, trying to keep up with his friend’s stretcher.

“You collapsed in the hall outside of Dean’s room. You've been out for awhile,” Lex was pale, eyes baggy and looking like he was about to collapse himself. The medic was standing over his own gurney just to the right, a large hand wrapped warmly around his forearm.

Richard closed his eyes as a wave of grief hit him hard, his mind suddenly caught in a whirlwind of images of Dean; as the medics fought to revive him with endless chest compressions in the forest, and then his friend’s body - small and injured and so terribly _sick_ \- whimpering on the gurney in the chopper as he woke.

And then, the feeling of Dean’s cold fingers in his own, slowly losing strength to as he lost consciousness again.

“Dean,” the word came out breathless, without sound. He swallowed roughly, caught by overwhelming feelings of both fear of what he’d missed while he was out, and what Lex’s response would be when he asked.

“How are his vitals?” Lex asked above him.

The doctor tore at the velcro of the cuff, removing it from his arm and adjusted the blanket back around his shoulders. Dimly, Richard only realized then that his body was wracked by tiny tremors. “Better than they were, holding steady now,” he said. “His pulse is fast, but that’s to be expected. Has he been cleared since the accident?”

“He was looked at quickly, yes. But he was determined to get back to the search,” Lex answered.

“He’s a little shocky and dehydrated. I don't doubt his blood sugar is low, too. We’ll keep him here for awhile until he’s feeling better. There’s some orange juice and crackers in the kitchenette, I’ll have a nurse bring some back.. for the both of you,” he added pointedly.

Lex nodded and shook his hand firmly. “Thanks, doctor.”

“Anytime. The call bell’s right there if you need anything else.”

When the door closed behind him, Richard finally found the medic’s tired eyes. He looked pleadingly upwards; his blue eyes were dark with distress for everything that he'd nearly lost, and he still had yet to hear if his friend had even made it.

Finally, Lex gathered himself and said breathlessly, “He's in the OR right now. I won't lie to you, Rich, his injuries are catastrophic. They aren't sure if he's going to make it through surgery. At the very least, the piece of glass hit his intestine, liver, and lung. He has a severe head injury.. the old would in his leg became infected and he's developed septicemia from it - blood poisoning.. but Rich, listen to me.. _Rich_.. he's made it this far.. I've yet to meet someone as strong as him,” the medic said. What he could not bring himself to say, though, were the many grim details that Dean’s primary surgeon had told him before rushing to the OR - that if the younger man even survived the extensive surgery, it was doubtful he would ever fully recover from the multitude of injuries he'd sustained. Lex gripped Richard’s forearm tighter, rubbing his thumb along the trembling limb.

“Yeah,” Richard said hoarsely. “He's in surgery now?”

Lex nodded. “He is. He's been in for about an hour now, and they expect it'll take at least another eight.” And he then he added softly, “There's just so much damage..”

Lifting the arm not held by the medic, Rich pulled a hand across his face, using the movement to scrub the wetness from his eyes. He swallowed dryly. “I, uh.. okay.. And Aidan? Adam?”

“They’re holding their own. Aidan is still in the ICU, but apparently Adam’s awake and asking for you. We can go visit them as soon as you’re able to get back on your feet.”

Richard acknowledged him with a small nod, unable to produce sound; the lump in his throat was growing as were the tears that lined his lower lashes. He suddenly lost the ability to look Lex directly in the eyes, too, and so he stared past his larger frame, over to the clock on the wall, eyes glazing over as the seconds ticked by.

“Rich, please,” Lex said quietly, because he could literally see the man begin to shut down in front of him. “I can see what you're thinking.. that look on your face.. Don’t.”

“I.. I can’t do this,” he whispered hoarsely after a few moments. An unexpected hot anger had bubbled so deep within him that he was shaking his head, breathing heavily through his nose. He was angry at himself for consenting to this vacation, for driving in the first place; angry he'd caused their accident off the cliffside, regardless of the circumstances that had preceded it. And he was angry at Dean - _furious_ \- that he’d wandered off to become lost, and angry it had taken the rescue crews so long to find him. He was so angry, the feeling so strong, that he felt his face pinching and reddening at the stress of it.

And a second later, just as abruptly as the anger had come, he was left with an overwhelming feeling of emptiness, of shame. What Dean had done was selfless; he'd risked his own life for the safety of them all. Gone was the anger and instead in its place was a feeling of guilt so huge, he was having trouble keeping his tears in check. He groaned at the weight of his changing emotions, and all too suddenly, it was as if he couldn't draw in enough air to voice the next words, and his voice literally shook, “ _What have I done?_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we'll see all the boys together. Are you ready for the angst of it?
> 
> Comments feed the whump bunny.


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